Parcelfarce.


Yesterday saw the tearful finale to a month-long standoff with DHL.

It all started what seems like years ago, when a young(ish) comedy promoter ordered a black backdrop to dress the stage at his club. After a little research into the best source for the type of curtain he needed, he stumbled across a company selling made-to-measure theatre drapes via Amazon; it was at this point he ordered what he needed, and then switched from discussing his actions in third-person to first.

When I (for I am he, just like in 'I am the Walrus') ordered the curtain, I had the foresight to allow time for arrival, while also factoring in how long it would take to adapt it for use; provided we could road-test it at the first of our two shows in March to be completely ready for the second one, I’d be happy. What I didn’t anticipate was the aeon it would take for the delivery company to find my address.

Before we move on, let’s make something clear: there’s nothing strange about my address. I live on a main road that’s had the same name for years and my door number’s clearly visible from the street; it’s not an unmarked dirt track in the middle of nowhere, or a mobile home owned by someone with a Littlest Hobo complex. Type my postcode into Google Maps and it will take to the right place, give or take a few metres.

Apparently, when it comes to DHL, that isn’t simple enough: you could wave a Les Misérables-style flag from the roadside while letting off a half-dozen flares, and still, they won’t see you; even supplying your phone number after the first, second and third time they can't locate you won't help: they’re not going to call you just in case you're in the loo. 

I won’t bore you with the ins and outs of my postal adventure, save to say my parcel went back to Germany and then out for delivery twice before reaching me, and each time, I stayed at home all day with my mobile by my side, constantly checking for updates, and they didn’t phone me once. It was only when I fashioned an A3 sign with my house number written in massive Sharpie digits that I finally broke the curse. If the curtain doesn’t get a standing ovation at our next show, I will have waited in vain; do DHL navigate by dowsing?

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