For 10 years (at least), an Ontario phone book has had our house number wrong. Some silly person entered our address as being at 500, not at 550, which it has been for 35 years this year. Another silly person (me), has spent the past 10 years trying to get this changed. But, I am like an idiot past president trying to change election results.
Because of this eff up, some of our mail has ended up in the postal box belonging to the owner of 500. Now and then, the doorbell rings, and we are handed catalogues, letters and advertising flyers by the true occupant of 500. The person delivering it seems grumpier with each visit. I try to explain I have tried for 10 years to get this changed without any luck but I can tell they think I am a stone cold lying jerk. Which I may well be. But I ain’t exercising any fibbery on this one. I write to the company. They are very nice. They promise to change it. Then give me the finger when my back is turned.
This week, I learned that someone who had sent me a parcel at 500, had it returned to them with the word “moved” scrawled on it. I am guessing we had moved to 550 WHERE WE ACTUALLY LIVE.
But, that gave me an idea. A few weeks ago, 500 came up for sale. For real. Seems drastic, but I am thinking of selling 550 and buying 500 so my mail troubles will be over. I was never much of a planner and this plan doesn’t sound that great either, but I am a desperate, desperate man.
I am also filled with bitterness and hatred for the people at that phonebook company. It doesn’t help that it seems their website hasn’t been updated since 2015.
Aaargh! (which is pirate for I am so mad I could eat a live turtle. In my backyard. At 550.)
©2021 Jim Hagarty
