Hi, seeing as we’re now apparently friendly enough to say hi to each other.
As requested, here is my review of how you did delivering my parcel containing 24 156g cans of varied flavours of Applaws wet dog food.
Note, I am saving my review of the dog food for when the inevitable email requesting a review of the 24 156g cans of varied flavours of Applaws wet dog food arrives from the retailer from who you were contracted to collect the parcel from in order to deliver it to me, although in truth I will only be able to provide that review on behalf of my dog, who rarely comments on such things, unless you count the ‘I am demanding more’ bark she tries when the plate is empty.
To be honest though, she will eat literal shit, so I’m not sure a review from the dog would be particularly useful as a marketing aid for the dog food brand.
“Applaws. 99% of dogs say it’s as good as shit.”
See. Doesn’t really work.
I note that this is now approximately the seventeenth email generated by my purchase of 24 156g cans of varied flavours of Applaws wet dog food, which does lead me to wondering if half the reason for the United Kingdom needing a power station like DRAX is to make sure we can generate enough electricity to power the email servers of all the online firms generating email messages for every tiny little transactional stage that has taken place in the online world… like those generated to confirm the transaction… then your method of payment provider emails to confirm the payment for the order… then the retailer informs you of a confirmation of the order being picked and ready to dispatch… and then informs you that the parcel has been collected by the delivery contractor… who then confirms that they have your parcel and would you like to track its progress through various nodes of its distribution network, because you can now, with this number… no, I digress… I shall rate your delivery as requested.
Although, I obviously do recognise the need for people to know things, to be kept informed. I mean, if I was talking to my wife and she asked me “Hey, where are the 24 156g cans of varied flavours of Applaws wet dog food you ordered?”, it is important that I may honestly tell her “Hang on… let me find out the up to the minute, live information that the parcel delivery company can tell me due to their use of this incredibly impressive technology that they put in place to tell me just that sort of thing should I suddenly need to answer a question like yours at half past ten on a Monday night… yes, look, they have received my parcel at 22:12 in the distribution centre in Slough, from where it will continue onwards to Plymouth overnight, with an ETA of 06:53, from where it will be loaded to go out to be delivered and the driver who will be bringing it to us will be called Kevin and be wearing yellow underpants.”
“Good,” she will say, “I can now sleep comfortably tonight…. Hang on, isn’t the shop you ordered it from in Plymouth?”
Anyway, imagine my dismay if she asked “Hey, where are the 24 156g cans of varied flavours of Applaws wet dog food you ordered?” and all I could say was “Honestly, who really gives a fuck, but it said delivery by Tuesday on the website.”
Please do not think I am unappreciative of the modern competitive online world, where I can pick and choose between the internet retailers, all offering the same product at spookily similar pricing, trying my hardest to avoid the ones who use some known to me parcel firms who I have found are likely to turn up to deliver my parcel from a horse shouting “Yeehaw!” as they throw it in the general direction of my front step, immediately followed by a new email ping from my smartphone saying ‘Your parcel has been safely delivered.”
I may have some concerns in terms of the accuracy of your wording in the above email.
Some might just say my parcel has simply ‘arrived’, and not been ‘delivered’. It may just be me, but do you not agree that the word ‘delivery’ has some connotation that an element of care is involved in the process in bringing the parcel to my door?
Well, close to the door anyway.
I may also have a small quibble with the word ‘safely’.
But, having found the parcel in a patch of pansies — by following the skid mark trail it left on the front path from the mud it picked up on its journey through the bed of bluebells — and opening and unpacking it to ensure that the damage on the box had not been transferred directly to its contents, I must concede that the contents are safe, even if the parcel itself had flirted with the concept of escaping gravity and violently lost.
Of course, three seconds after inspecting the contents of the box, I received the above email, saying “We have delivered your Petshop parcel. Let us know how we did…”
Oh, yes. Rate the delivery.
I rate your delivery as just 3 out of 10. The parcel arrived, but I suspect even that was mainly due to systems that were put in place when the Post Office came into being in 1660, so all sorts of items like letters, bills etc. have also been reliably arriving at the destination as described by their address for over three hundred years.
If the rider had let the horse deposit some manure on the roses, it would have been a seven.