Over the years I’ve built many flatpack items of furniture. My most favourite of which is the nine drawer chest I bought from Do-It-All that has moved with me three times and is still gracing my living room after twenty odd years. One place I moved in to had a fireplace with a wide wooden shelf above it. It was in a vile orangey pine lacquered sort of colour and my ‘man’ at the time ( who incidentally lost nigh on half a million spondoolies investing in African mining that went tits up) was deeply serious when he asked me why I hadn’t gone and bought furniture that matched with it. Proper made up and delivered furniture costs a bomb that I’d rather spend on art supplies and Merlot. I’ll make my own furniture thanks dickhead.
So last week after lots of fights with and only being able to use two drawers of the current one I decided it was high time I forked out for a new chest of drawers for my bedroom. After much online shopping about and umming and ahing I went for a wide six drawer unit from Argos because it was green. My little bungalow is a smorgasbord of colour and splashes of green make me happy. I order and await delivery from yodel in excited anticipation.
Two days later a young manboy with his shorts and trainers and high viz vest arrives sweaty and panting at my door. The stairs are a bastard and I apologise and thank him profusely as he lugs the parcel into my hallway. Afterwards as I wait for the kettle to boil I stare fondly at my delivery and the delights within and suddenly the penny drops. There is no way that a full chest is in that box. It’s not wide enough. Oh for fucks sake!
I get my order up online. Check the name, check the size and then find the smaller writing down the bottom that it gives the sizes of two separate parcels because this isn’t being delivered by Geoff Capes. I groan in the complete and sure knowledge that sorting this out will require unlimited patience and two bottles of red afterwards.
In short the poor guy came four times. On the Monday he carted up parcel No1. On the Tuesday he carted up parcel No2. On the Wednesday he carted up another parcel No1. and No2. and carted away parcel No1 from the first delivery. On the Friday he finally staggered down the steps with parcel No2. from the first delivery. Poor guy he hates me and anything in the future delivered from Yodel will no doubt end up in some random bush.
To organise all this I’d had to deal with Argos customer service AI chatbot and the out of body experiences that are ‘I do not understand. Is it a yes or a no that you you would like to arrange to collect your order from another branch?’. ‘If you go to our help pages you will find answers to the most common questions’. I shout at my computer and type odd things in for the hell of it like, ‘if you don’t put me though to customer service I’m going to kill myself’. Eventually of course it does
So the two parcels have been sat there propped against the bedroom wall for over a week now because I cannot bear to open them. Because when you know you just fucking know.