Viewing Thread:
"Why Royal Mail hates you"

You read in the news about performance issues in London and some other places and you nodded, thought "Bloody post" and swapped stories about waiting for 3 days for a letter that should have arrived tomorrow.
You complain because your dvd doesn't arrive within 3 days from play.com, or Amazon hasn't arrived even though you requested special delivery.
Or you whinge to your family when the postie hasn't arrived by 10am and you've been hanging about waiting for that letter and blah blah blah blah.
Some of these are fair comment, some of them are tedious noise that nobody cares about or pays attention to.

However, we detest you as much as you moan about us.
Not all of you, don't get me wrong. But an awful lot of you.
Why? Here's a few inside secrets for you.
And obviously I don't speak for Royal Mail, or anybody else except for myself, so it's not potentially slanderous.

Special Delivery
These are those letters/packets with the grey sticker that says "Before 12pm", these are the packets you pay extra for because they're extremely important and you have to recieve it.
Fair enough.
SO GODDAM BE IN WHEN I DELIVER IT THEN.
9 times in the past 3 weeks this has happened. "Before 12". I arrive between 9am and 11:30am. And each and every single time nobody has been in.
You assfaces. If you pay the extra, then be in to sign for it. We've all done it, expecting a delivery of something so you take the morning off work or get up early if you're off. And you wait.
As soon as it's 12pm, go off and do stuff, I failed in my duty to deliver before the appointed time. But nooooooooooo, you have to be out don't you?

Magazines
You're invalid or lazy and can't be arsed to go to the shop to buy your Motorcycle News Monthly or FHM or Caravan World or Radio Times.
So I have the pleasure of 117 houses with heavy-ass mags I can buy in WHSmiths. And, this is the real redfacer, oftentimes a house will have 3-4 copies of the Radio Times, all addressed to different people.
WHY? WHY ARE YOU SO GODDAMN STUPID YOU NEED 3 COPIES? There is no excuse to need multiple copies of the same magazine delivered. Get in your SUV, drive the 110 yards to the local shops and. Buy. A. Magazine.

Massive Packets
Use your water-filled heads here people, some things will not go through your front door and chances are you'll be at work anyway.
So the following articles, all personally witnessed by myself, shall no longer be eligible for your weary Postman to lug around for 4hrs:
Footballs - Buy one and kick it you monger
Exhaust System - I'd like to shoot your children for that one you ass
Yukka Plant - I am not David Bellamy or Ray Mears
A Kite - Yep, a fully-extended Kite wrapped in newspaper.
Think to yourself, "Do I dabble in physics?" before you attempt to post something to your retard relatives in some vast concrete toilet in Essex

Correct Address
Seems obvious doesn't it? You learn this stuff at school, "Name. Address. Town. Postcode". Simple.
So don't just put "Sanjay Seervajingh, Church Langley, Harlow" you clown.
Try, before you squash that letter through the postbox with your flippers, to think "Now have I put all the details down?" before monging off to watch Casualty and Eastenders.
Or, my favourite so far, "Bill. Harlow. Esexx"
Muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh

Crap jokes about the weather
We've heard them. All of them. Every variation. If you must speak, nod and say "Morning Postie", this is fine and very welcome in fact.
Don't say "Nice weather for ducks", because that's nonsensical.
Don't say "Rather you than me", because Postie will stop in his tracks, make a note of your door number and forget to deliver your post for the next day.
Don't say "Hope you can swim! Hahahahaha!"
Don't say "Cor, you'll be home in time for neighbours wontcha?"
Don't say "Where's Bill/Sam/Steve then? On holiday?", or if you must, then don't look puzzled when Postie says "Nope, stolen by gypsies. Or dead. I forget which" before walking across your front lawn and on to the next house.
Don't say "Oh, my post is wet" when it's thumping down and your Postman looks bedraggled and very, very angry at your jawdropping stupidity.
Of course it's wet, I've been carrying it in my arm for 20 mins whilst water falls out the sky onto it and me.
You spastic.

----

That'll do for now.
Royal Mail - We loathe you more than you do us.
But it's still the most fun job I've had in 31 years.

I like my postie, whenever i have to sign anything he always calls me mister stevenson and even better, he looks a bit like bill oddie. He also delivers my subscription magazines, i subscribe not because I am lazy, but because it saves me money off the cover price.

I had the parcel force guy at the door today, i think he is starting to know my face as well. Same with the Amtrak guy.

HAHAHAHA!!!

The real method involves mustard.

Oh, you did one too. Dunno why I didn't see that

Timmargh wrote:
"Did some aversion training and he hasn't done it since."

'This is a sweet wrapper.'

*dog glares*

'DON'T F**KING EAT IT.'

Timmargh wrote:
> Did some aversion
> training and he hasn't done it since.

Now the judge went through this with you; slipping the dog an anal length of Timmargh whilst dangling an elastic band in front of it's face does NOT count as aversion training.

the sagacious one wrote:
> If the dog ate Sheepy's univited man's rubber band-ball you could play
> football with it. Though you'd have to change the name of the dog to
> Roy so that the papers can make good headlines.
>
> "Roy of the Rovers!"

I love you.

Grix Thraves wrote:
> Crikey, you're the man.

Yeah, I'm quite proud of that. There was no question of thinking about it: he was choking and I've never been so scared in my life.


SHEEPY wrote:
> Dog's a bit thick mind you.

Certainly, but he was a pup and it was only his second time out into the big wide world and the first time with just me. Did some aversion training and he hasn't done it since.

If the dog ate Sheepy's univited man's rubber band-ball you could play football with it. Though you'd have to change the name of the dog to Roy so that the papers can make good headlines.

"Roy of the Rovers!"

I'm done.

Dog's a bit thick mind you.

Timmargh wrote:
"Well, you throw yourself off your mobility scooter onto the pavement, cracking two ribs in the process, to save your dog from choking to death on a sweet wrapper he's just tried to swallow."

Crikey, you're the man.