Royal Mail Ruckus.

A Small Mind is enraged. Not for the first time.

This morning he had a heated discussion with an over officious Royal Mail delivery person. Happening to be reliving himself at the time, I was unfortunate to miss a delivery of a parcel at the door.

Upon finding a ticket in the doorway for said parcel, I looked out upon the street and saw that the dear old post person (political correctness here) was returning on the other side of the street.

Stepping from my door and crossing said street, I presented said post person with the aforementioned card, I requested the item that he had been unable to deliver to me. Only to be told that he was unable to give parcels over in the street and that he would return to attempt delivery later.

Shocked at the bizarreness of this situation I returned across the road, home. Upon observing said previous aforementioned post person complete his delivery up the street, I prepared for his return to deliver the afore-aforementioned parcel.

Disturbingly the previously mentioned post person disappeared around the corner into the wilderness. Surprised by this, but still expecting the return, I waited patiently.

After an unspecified time, the post person did not return. Unfortunately, A Small Mind had places to go, people to upset and his need to leave was now. As a final hope of obtaining his parcel, A Small Mind grabbed the failed delivery ticket and set out with the attempt to meet the post person once again and explain that I had to depart these fair streets in pursuit of life.

Meeting the post person once again in the next street, I heartily explained that I was in need of leaving these wonderful homes and that I would not be able to receive the parcel should he return soon to attempt to deliver.

'I am afraid that as I have previously explained I cannot hand over parcels in the street.'

I waved the ticket at him and said, 'how on earth could I have got hold of this ticket so quickly, unless I was the resident of the house. You even saw me leave the house in question earlier!'

'I am sorry, but I cannot hand over parcels in the street, I can't afford to risk my job' he said over officiously.

I got out a bank card (Barclay's I say, product placement here) and said:

'Here is my bank card, it has my name on it, the same name as on the parcel, surely this proves who I am!'

'Look' he said, 'I have told you I cannot hand over parcels in the street. You are not listening to me!'

Sadly, A Small Mind was listening and hearing every ridiculous word.

Royal Mail policy perhaps, but being used to within an inch of its life. The post person in question, knows enough of me to know who I am. He has delivered for many years on a round two streets away and was simply covering the round today. A round that usually has a most professional deliverer, who actually tries to deliver the mail.

A Small Mind sadly does not have the said said parcel, and is reliably informed that he can pick it up from the depot (a few miles away), but not before 48 hours have passed.

Just over a week before a bank loan will be required to post a letter, I sit here mightily impressed by this wonderful service.