Been buying in a few VHS tapes and the likes for reviewing purposes on the soon-to-be revived Ritual Objects blog. I’m waiting for a couple of parcels.
So, it’s just past midday, postie’s due and I’m in the kitchen getting a brew on when I hear a loud “bang” from the close, like a door slamming. I go to the door and look through the keek-hole in time to witness the postie taking one of my parcels – he’s right outside my door, mind – raising it to head-height and slamming it down on the concrete, while muttering “fuck this!” or some-such. He uses enough force that it bounces back up to about his shoulder.
I tear open the door and ask, I think justifiably, “What the fuck are you playing at?”
He looks a bit like a rabbit caught in the headlights and says, “Oh, sorry, I dropped that,” while hastily handing me a small stack of three parcels and some mail.
“Did you fuck – I just watched you through the door-” indicating the keek-hole “-and you deliberately bounced it off the fucking ground.”
“Sorry, I dropped it, I apologise.”
“Sorry, I just watched you throw it. It better no be fucking damaged.”
While he starts trying to make a joke of how tough a climb the stairs are, I slam the door in his face.
It occurs to me I’ve heard him do this before with parcels – the loud “bang” – I’d just never realised what it was I’ve been hearing. I’ve had damaged stuff before which has almost certainly been down to this wee shite. Today’s parcels each contained four VHS tapes, well packaged but not enough to stop several of the boxes from shattering. I’ve had identically damaged tapes before – now I know why. This is really taking the piss.
I suppose I’ll have to put in a complaint. Slapping him until he cries would probably be frowned upon.