There is one Pampered Chef who is damn well going to be a little less pampered for a few days until the weather warms up. If the package had been labeled “Insulin Supplies”…well, that would have been a different story altogether. With absolutely no solicitation or remuneration, I heartily endorse UPS who did not leave this package at my door. UPS are the guys who managed to get an iPhone and its Otter Box from me to a young man in Dhaka, Bangladesh without a hitch. Etchings and other prints managed to get from old shops in Canada and London to me…completely intact. That is, in the hands of UPS.
FedEx, however, seems to leave every other delivery at my door with absolute disregard for The Pampered Chef who lives at the other #205 . The problem is that his #205 is not on my street in my three-street neighborhood. I do not know the person who lives at the other #205. I have never seen him even when I arrived at his door to leave a misdirected package. I don’t believe he takes his walks by my house although I have been scrutinizing the Walkers lately trying to figure out which one might be The Pampered Chef. I am certain he walks. Walking is the kind of thing any decent pampered chef would do. I’m thinking of giving up entirely and asking some random Walker headed in the direction of the other #205 to do me the favor of dropping it off.
Forget calling FedEx.