Tuesday, 11 March 2008
I've recieved an invitation to an important party at the weekend. A train party. From Tracy who will be representing me at a variety of celebrity dinner parties. Not only is a train party not a celebrity dinner party, but because it's a children's birthday party there is unlikely to be the temptation of champagne. Or caviar. But there will be trains, which should be fun.
Nevertheless I will be unable to go, owing, as they say, to a prior engagement.
With the coming of Spring to Chicago, I have every expectation that we will finally get to go to that barbecue that Bee has been promising to lay on for us, but was forced to cancel owing to inclement weather. However, I will be absent.
I will also have to ask my ex to bring Helena round this weekend, as I won't be able to leave my flat between the hours of 7 am and 7 pm.
All because the nice lady at my ISP said she could save me £3 a month.
I phoned because they keep charging me an extra Pound or so every month for exceeding my download limit. This is due to all the Cypriot TV that I'm streaming off the internet. I don't mind this extra - it's cheaper than paying £6 more for unlimited downloads, but I was checking that my ISP doesn't mind me going over my limit all the time. They said it was fine, but actually if I start a new contract they'll reduce my payments by £3 and send me a modem with wireless capability.
This will be useful for when I eventually get a laptop, but is also the reason for my forced captivity this Saturday.
In the past, they've sent things like this by Royal Mail. Amazingly, since I work all day (how thoughtless of me), I'm never around when they deliver the parcels, so they take them to their depot for me to collect at my convenience.
But now my ISP has decided to start using another parcel company. They came round on Monday, but I was out. So they came round this morning, and I still wasn't around. They left a card saying that I could arrange for one more attempt at a delivery, after which time the parcel will be returned to sender. So I phoned.
"Don't you have a neighbour who can take delivery?", asked the lady. What? One that doesn't mind staying at home between 7am until I finish work? All my neighbours work as well.
However, all was not lost as they do Saturday deliveries. Hence my inability to go to all those wonderful parties.
It seems worrying that home delivery is getting more difficult and not easier. After all, we're told that Internet shopping is the future. And also that in the interests of sexual equality more women will be forced to work against their will, and so there'll be no-one around to take delivery of all these parcels.
All they have to do now is to find a way to deliver things via the internet, and it'll be fine.