…don’t you just love when your windows are open and perfect wafts of air circle through your home?Ã‚Â This time period is short in Pittsburgh.Ã‚Â Now, then spurts in Fall.Ã‚Â Soon stifling humidity will work its way through the house and we’ll seal the place up as though poisionous gas was threatening to invade.
So, okay, we ordered a kitchen island and it came today.Ã‚Â But, the delivery company will only move the three hundred pound thing to the end of the truck.Ã‚Â
“That’s a delivery, mam.Ã‚Â Who’s gonna help you haul this sucker in?”
“You,” I said.
“I’ll need a check for $160,” the delivery man said.Ã‚Â He growled and stretched his neck.
“You are a delivery man, right?”
“More like a driver.Ã‚Â Most of our stuff goes to business.Ã‚Â They have a dolly waiting for us, usually.”
“Who?Ã‚Â The other suburban mothers you deliver to?”
“Usually go to businesses, Mam.”
And so I forked over $59 to haveÃ‚Â him put it on the curb and $105 to have him bring it in the house.Ã‚Â What kind of nonsense IS this?Ã‚Â
I hate giving baths, but I still have to do it.
I hate preparing meals.Ã‚Â Gotta do it.
To top things off, they forgot to load the box with the hardware.Ã‚Â When are they bringing it?Ã‚Â They’ll get back to me.Ã‚Â
Really, the guy was nice.Ã‚Â He brought the think into my hallway.
These policies.Ã‚Â Do you suppose the suits who make this shit up sit around the table cackling like witches?Ã‚Â “Let’s see if we can take the delivery out of the delivery process…will the suckers bite?”Ã‚Â Three corporate morons rub their hands with glee.
One of my favorite readers Tony is going to label me “grumpy housewife” again after my last few posts…I’ll try to lighten up.