Look, if it's a little after 3PM on Friday and you don't really feel like doing your job for the next 2 hours because the weekend is so close, just fucking quit.
There are 10 other people who would love to have your job and would do it until 5 o'clock each day. I'll bet ya the company could hire them cheaper than you as well.
I'm in Orlando at the big charity event my friend and I put on each year. We're expecting several packages that contain raffle prizes for the attendees. These range in size from 1 lb. all the way up to 86 lbs., which contains a brand new guitar amplifier. The amp was shipped from San Diego on Weds. and was sent 2-day air using a company that has 3 letters in it's name, the first of which is "U".
On Thursday, the foot controller for the amp arrives in it's little 3 lb. box. It's marked "1 of 2" and it's actually ahead of schedule. I made the BRUTAL mistake of getting my hopes high that the large 86 lb. box would arrive on time the following day.
I'm such a dreamer. Or am I?
The event is scheduled to start at 8PM on Friday night. The delivery company stops delivering at 6PM. No packages yet, so I call them with the tracking number....
...fucking automated phone prompts....I hope they can pick up the anger in my voice as they automatically transfer me....
"Hello. I need this package [gives tracking number] delivered to this hotel. Now."
"I'm sorry sir, but the drivers are finished delivering packages for the day."
"No they are not. They have one more to deliver. The company paid for 2-day. Today is the 2nd day. Get it?"
"I'm sorry sir, but the notes here say that they could not find that address."
"Are you fucking kidding me? They dropped off the first half of the delivery yesteryday. They sure as shit know where this place is. Don't lie to me. I'm bored with that. What I need is that box delivered here before 8PM. I don't care how you get it here. Grab a bike. Just have it here by 8."
"I'm sorry sir but all the drivers are gone for the day. The package will be delivered the next business day."
"Look, there is no 'next business day' here. It's an annual event. Today is my ONE business day all year."
"You can try calling the local distribution facility, but they closed 30 minutes ago."
"Give me the number."
At this point, blood is coming out of my eyes and people at the event are starting to look at me funny and step slowly toward the exits. It's understandable. I forgive them. I hope they forgive me later.
I let the fucking number ring. And ring. And ring.
Twelve minutes later, it's answered.
I explain the whole thing over again to the guy that the previous operator told me (lied to me) that she had contacted. The guy is fairly cool, but he can't locate the box.
Finally he does. It's there. He can see it.
"Great. Now put it on a truck or a motorcycle and get it over here. The event starts in 20 minutes. I need it here by then. I can't raffle off a piece of paper saying 'Coming Soon!'."
"I'm sorry sir, but all the drivers are gone for the day."
"You don't have a fucking car?"
"I can't deliver packages in my personal vehicle. The company doesn't allow that."
"I'm *wide* open for ideas then. Courier, rickshaw, transporter beam, toss 'em out there....I'm listening..."
"You can come here and pick it up."
"Is that some kind of sick fucking joke? You're a DELIVERY company!"
"That's the only option at this point, or we can deliver it on Monday."
"Apparently you didn't get the memo from the first person about how there is no 'monday' for me."
"Well, we're open until 9PM, our address is....."
Son of a cock junkie.
I get in my truck, leave two black rubber trails out of the parking lot and head to their facility to pick it up. A 30 min. trip. Each way. The security guard at the facilty is pretty cool, but a *tad* bit over-protective of the pavement he's securing. Maybe it was my violent body shakes that kept his hand on his walkie-talkie. Or maybe the guy inside cowering behind the window had warned him that I was "upset".
I get the package back. It's almost an hour after the event had started. I'm a little calmer now. Not much.
I needed a beer. Badly.
All of this......
Because some fuckstick had a case of Friday-itis and didn't want to lift/drop-off an 86 lb. box.
I guess the better question is: What CAN'T Brown do for you today?
HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-ASSED PASTOR
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