|
The weekend newspapers are somewhat bulky so we leave a large red plastic box on the doorstep where they can be placed thus saving the newspaper boy time and effort pushing them through the letter box a section at a time.
This worked well until a new lad took over a few weeks ago and contrived to miss both the box and the large laminated card inside requesting that the papers be left therein.
Easily solved by taping a note above the letter box drawing his attention to the red box. All done in the most gentlemanly and civilised terms and problem solved.
Fast forward a few weeks to this morning. The tail end of Hurricane Bertha struck the country and torrential rain arrived as per forecast.
In order that the newspapers weren’t chucked into a box with half an inch of water in it, I placed a tray on top which was a perfect fit.
Rain arrived as did the papers shortly thereafter. Now, gentle reader, you’re ahead of me here, aren’t you?
Yes, the newspapers were deposited on the wet tray. Why did I bother?
The delivery lad isn’t a twelve year old on a bike, he comes by car and, assuming he has observed the formality of passing a driving test, must be at least seventeen.
That’s right, Her Majesty’s Government has seen fit to unleash a lad onto the public highway system who appears not to have the sense with which he was born.
Irritating? Yes. There’s no more to be said.
__________________
|