My mother was having a tough week, so I decided to send her a bag of treats because she’d never buy them for herself. Unfortunately, the street she lives on is a case of here-be-dragons as far as GPSs are concerned. Map apps always, always send you to the rear entrance, which is on a different road, and it’s a pain to get from this wrong road to the right road in a vehicle. My parents have a back gate opening onto the wrong road, but it (justifiably) irritates delivery people. That said, usually, they are not too bothered. If anything, they’re relieved when the correct person appears, and maybe a bit hurried because they’ve spent extra time looking for this benighted location (hence, we tip well). Except for this one guy.

I’m at my desk, forty km away, when my phone rings. The man on the other end is already steamed.

Caller: “I’m at the police station on Bird Road. Where’s the entrance?”

I have no idea who I’m talking to.

Me: “To the police station?”

Caller: “To 30 Lark Street! You said the entrance is on Bird Road!”

Me: “Oh, no, sorry, I said you get to Lark Street from Bird Road. If you go up a block, you’ll see Wings Road on the right, and then Lark is the first right off that.”

Caller: “You said it was on Bird Road.”

Me: “No, I said it’s 30 Lark Street; you get there from Bird Road, because—”

And this was a mistake on my part…

Me: “—if you try to get there from Fish and Mammal Road, you end up on the wrong—”

Caller: “YOU SAID IT WAS BIRD ROAD!”

Me: “No, but Bird Road is the right direction, if you—”

He hangs up. I’m old enough to remember slamming down a phone, and this guy does a really good job of approximating that with a touchscreen. Well, okay. I’ve worked in customer-facing jobs. It can suck. He probably gets crapped on all the time. Whatever.

I let my mother know what’s going on, prep her for a potentially angry deliveryman, and go back to my work. 

Two minutes later, he calls back. 

Caller: “I AM ON FISH ROAD!”

Cursing Google, Apple Maps, and whichever lunatic designed my parents’ neighbourhood, I say:

Me: “Okay, just go until you find Mammal—”

Caller: “YOU SAID IT WAS BIRD!”

Me: “Dude, just go on a bit and you’ll see Mammal, and then it’s left onto Parrot. It’s okay; we’ll hear you coming.”

Caller: “YOU SAID IT WAS BIRD!”

And he hangs up. 

Ten minutes later, my mother messages me to say thank you. I ask how the delivery guy was. She says he was perfectly pleasant. Ten minutes after that, he calls me. 

Me: *Quickly* “Thank you for getting the delivery to the right place. I’m sorry it’s so confusing.”

There’s a pause. 

Caller: *Whispering* “You said… it was Bird Road.”

I order sleeves for cards on the Internet. The seller ships them to my house and provides me with a tracking number. On a Thursday, I get a text from the delivery company informing me that my package will be delivered the next day. Since I won’t be home that day, I use their online service to switch the delivery to a nearby shop where I can pick it up when I come back.

I do so the next Monday. The clerk hands me what seems to be a very large and heavy package for sleeves, but I figure the seller just padded it down with stuff to avoid any damage.

I get home and open it. It’s a drill battery and its charger. I snap a pic and send it to the seller with several question marks before actually having a look at the packaging. It has been obviously relabeled. I say “obviously” because not only does it have a second label peeking from under the top one but it also has an additional label that says, “Relabeled for pickup by [Delivery Company]”.

Before I call the company’s helpline, I figure I can check the pickup place first. I go back there and sprain my ankle on the way, but the clerk can’t do anything for me. I limp back home and call the helpline. I explain to them that I got someone else’s relabeled package.

Employee #1: “You must contact the seller. They labeled your package wrong.”

Me: “No, you don’t get it.”

I reexplain that it was relabeled.

Employee #1: “You must contact the seller. They labeled your package wrong.”

Me: “But you guys relabeled it!”

Employee #1: “You must contact the seller. They labeled your package wrong. [Delivery Company] does not relabel packages.”

I give up, hang up, and call again, hoping to be put through to someone who can go a bit further than reading from a script tree. I have no such luck and get the exact same response. Exasperated that I seem to be the only one trying to fix [Delivery Company]’s mistake, I ask to be put through to a manager.

Employee #2: “But ma’am, they’ll just tell you the same thing I’m telling you!”

Me: “I don’t really care. Please transfer me.”

Employee #2: “All right, please hold.” *Hangs up*

I’m kind of fuming by this point between having been hung up on, spraining my ankle, and not getting my actual package. I Google the battery, find out it’s three times as expensive as my sleeves, and decide to sell it on eBay to recoup my losses.

The next day, I get woken up by the doorbell. I have to point out that I sleep naked and am almost literally blind without my contacts. I answer the intercom and hear:

Voice: “Hello. Can you come down? I have a package for you.”

Still limping, I rush to put on a T-shirt and pants, completely foregoing underwear in order to save the delivery driver some time. I also don’t put contacts in. I hobble my way down two flights of stairs and across my courtyard. I am handed a package that feels much more like the one I expected, and I sign for it.

Driver: “Next time, can you please hurry? I had to wait for you for too long!”

I leave without saying a word to avoid murdering the idiot.

For a week, I forget about the whole thing. Then, the phone rings.

Caller: “Hello, Miss [My Name]?”

Me: “Yeah?”

Caller: “I am [Caller], head of the local [Delivery Company] branch. I am calling you today because you might help me to locate a package.”

Do you mean the package that I called to try and give back to you guys but you hung up on me? That package?

Me: “How so?”

Caller: “You did pick up a package from [Pick-Up Place], right?”

Me: “Yep.”

Caller: “See, we assume there has been a relabeling mistake. Did you pick up one or two packages?”

Me: “Only one, sir.”

That’s true; the second one was delivered to me.

Caller: “Oh? That’s weird. We have two pick-ups in our system. What a mess!”

Me: “I’m sorry about that, but I don’t think I can be of much help, I’m afraid!”

Caller: “Nah, it’s okay. Now we know for sure that it must be at [Pick-Up Place]. Sorry for bothering you. Have a nice day!”

I wanted nothing more than to be able to help him. However, he was calling about a relabeling mistake, and I know for a fact that [Delivery Company] does not relabel packages!

This happens to my coworker in the shipping department in our store. She’s manning the department alone one day, taking care of three customers at once. One is having copies made, another is doing a fax, and another is shipping a package. A fourth customer walks up, and my coworker politely tells her that it’ll be just a moment.

Well, she is having none of that. She demands to speak to a manager who she then screams at about having to wait while these other people’s jobs are done.

Customer: “I am a business owner and I need immediate service! Everyone else can wait.”

Taking it out on my coworker and manager wasn’t enough. She then wrote to corporate and informed them that she would never be using the shipping department in our store again. Turns out this woman was under the impression that the shipping department was “for businesses only, not normal people.” It was an outrage that we would DARE to just serve ANYONE who comes in.

No, really. That was her complaint.

Corporate actually sent a scanned version of this insane letter to our manager, who framed it in the breakroom and shared this story for the laughs.

Fine with us if she doesn’t want to do business with us; we don’t want to see her, either!

The company where I work recently purchased new office space in our building. We now occupy two suites of offices downstairs, as well as the main office upstairs where clients and visitors are directed. People who do not work for us should not be coming into the offices downstairs. The business that used to occupy the downstairs office has moved to a different location, which is noted in a large sign on our door which, unfortunately, doesn’t have a lock yet. I should note that I am a young female and I’m totally blind.

One day, I am alone in the new office. All my coworkers are either sick or solving problems upstairs. I hear the door open and figure it’s one of them coming back. All of a sudden, I hear a strange man in the reception area.

Man: *Loudly* “Hello? Hello?”

I don’t recognize the voice, so I ignore him. I figure he must be a customer of [Previous Business] who doesn’t realize they have moved. I wait for him to leave, but instead:

Man: *Now yelling* “Hello! I need a signature! Hello!”

Realizing this guy isn’t going away and starting to get uncomfortable, I call out from my desk:

Me: “Sorry, sir, let me call the receptionist.”

Our receptionist works upstairs.

I try to buzz the receptionist but she is on the phone. Meanwhile, the strange guy starts walking around the office! He knocks on closed doors, including the one to our restroom, repeating:

Man: “Excuse me! Hello! I need a signature!”

I get my mom on the phone; she works across the hall in the other downstairs office. She doesn’t know of any packages being delivered to our company and can tell I am nervous, so she walks over.

As soon as I hang up, this man proceeds to enter my office and drops two boxes onto my desk!

Man: “Excuse me, ma’am. I’m with [Delivery Company] and I just need a signature for these packages.”

Now I’m scared. I have no way of knowing if this guy is who he says he is since I can’t see him. I’m alone in a small space and he is blocking the only exit. If anything happened, I would have no escape and no witnesses.

Luckily, my mom arrives and he goes to the front to talk to her.

Mom: “Sir, who are you?”

He shows her the packages, for [Employee] with [Previous Business].

Mom: “That company has moved. The new address is on the door.”

Man: *With attitude* “So, you’re refusing delivery?”

Mom: “Yes. We did not place this order; that stuff isn’t for us.”

The delivery guy pushes some buttons on his tracking machine.

Man: “Uh, I don’t think I see an option for that. Are you sure you can’t just take it?”

Mom: *Getting angry* “No! We did not order these items! We are not going to take responsibility for something we didn’t request!”

Eventually, the delivery guy left… only to go upstairs and try to give the boxes to the receptionist! 

So, he failed to read the huge sign on the door he walked through, poked around a private office, and invaded the personal space of an employee, and then he tried to make us take the stuff anyway! What an idiot.

Oh, and after receiving an earful from my wonderful mother, the managers are having the lock installed next week!

I work as dispatch for a trucking company. One of my duties is to provide the closest truck driver for shipment. I get a call from a customer.

Customer: We can pay [generous amount] for this shipment, can you please check with your driver if that will be enough for him?”

I ask the driver:

Driver: “Yes, lock it down!”

Customer: “Alright, send your driver to the address.”

When the driver arrives at the address, he needs to wait for a couple of hours because they “made a mistake” with the paperwork. After asking them when they will be ready, only at the end do they tell him they sent their shipment with another courier for less money, and they didn’t even contact us. The driver tells me this and I call them asking for an explanation. They only said “sorry “and hung up.

Related:
Absolutely Trucking Mad, Part 4
Absolutely Trucking Mad, Part 3
Absolutely Trucking Mad, Part 2
Absolutely Trucking Mad