You should have seen what i had to go through to meet a hooker, doubly unvaccinated mid covid season. Pressing buzzers, wrong codes, like a right geezer as Rodney would say. Trotter, not dangerfield. Robots on the phone perhaps.
So this HelloFresh box gets left outside my front door today by mistake, and I figure out where it should have been delivered, which is just up the road but difficult to find, and easily confused with my address, and I take it there and start explaining to the woman what happened, and she interrupts after about one sentence. I don't what it is, but people do not listen to me speak.
I've been a manager and they are the most duplicitous, cowardly, moronic, bureaucratic shuffling, ass wipes you would ever hope to meet. That's why they are managers. And they are same the world over. From London to Paris to New York to Tokyo to Beijing.
What I should do is write a letter to The Times of London. But I don't have the time. And the ass wipes at The Times would probably not published it anyway. I'm an ignorant American after all.
So I leave it to you Lastcard to do the right thing and take up the torch. I'll buy you a pint of IPA next time I'm in London.