Ordinarily, I would have referred downstairs neighbor to Salvation Army, but she’s a very clean person and has quality furnishings one would rather see not go that route. Older sister just relocated from a one bedroom on the property to a two bedroom, so she was happy to take the items and appreciative of the hookup.
It's interesting that the new complex is furnished, prompting those moving in to get rid of what they own. If I were neighbor, I would have put my things in storage just in case the new complex doesn't work out, so I wouldn't have to start all over again accumulating.
Also, yesterday, I was thinking that when I got back to the complex from shopping, though I didn’t want to, I’d better crack those colored eggs and turn them into deviled eggs before they go bad. But, when I was walking around checking to see if anyone wanted or knew anyone who’d want the furniture, I ran into a resident babysitting her granddaughter.
“Can I give your granddaughter something I have from Easter?” asked I.
“Sure, says she.”
So that’s off my hands. The decision to crack or keep now rests with the little girl.
Those are my two good deeds, though I wasn’t counting and didn’t even see them as anything other than par for the course until I did something bad today and needed to show it's not my normal.
After returning yesterday’s purchase, I first stopped at Starbucks this morning where I saw a family sitting on the curb.
The father smiled at me, waved, held up a sign ... “I have 4 Kids. No job. No food”.
I looked at him, he looked at me, my heart hardened and I heard myself think to myself, “You shouldn’t have had all those damn kids.”
I feel guilty I feel that way, but I own the guilt, can live with the guilt, because that is and has always been a pet peeve of mine -- people having a passel of kids, especially children they can’t care for. It’s not fair to the children and is one of the reasons I'm no longer close to various relatives.
After being heartless, giving no money, refusing to even look in his direction again, I stopped at the UPS store on the corner next to the market to see about obtaining a post office box with an address for deliveries -- what they termed Delivery of Mail through Agent, after which I popped into the market deli to pick up something for lunch.
On the way back to the car from the deli, what did I see parked in front of the UPS Store?
That was close.
Another few minutes in the UPS Store and I’d have been busted by the mail carrier himself.
I’ve no doubt he’ll hear about the customer looking to be serviced because she’d lost confidence in him because, it being a slow day, with no one else in the establishment, the guy in the back moseyed over to the counter where I was asking questions of the female clerk about size of the box, and we got into a conversation as to where I lived and why I needed a box.
When I said, “Right over there, at the senior complex”, the guy looked surprised and said, “That’s Paul. He’s pretty good. He takes a lot of vacation, so it’s probably his replacements messing up.”
“No”, says I. “He was tracked as the courier on the deliveries I didn’t receive. He’s fast, appears to be professional, but I think sometimes he’s too fast and makes an honest mistake -- though he says he doesn’t make mistakes, and the recipient of his mistakes isn’t an honest person.”
At any rate, when I saw the price list and realized a year’s service would run $204, I told them to let me think about this and decided to weight out how much it’s costing me in misdirected packages against the cost of a box.
Thus far it’s been a loss of $101.94. However, the vendors have been understanding in that all but one have replaced the items at no further cost to me. That one vendor offered to sell me another 12x12 album, but not replace. I declined, saying I didn’t want to take the chance on a second misdelivery. So, out of $101.94, I’m out only $23.24, to date.
The risks outweigh cost of box, so I’ll just continue with the mail carrier and try to cut back ordering online.
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