Is there a reading comprehension requirement for UPS employment?
I arrive home from work last night, and climb the three flights of stairs to my apartment. To my amazement, there's a chest-high cardboard box sitting on the landing in front of my door. It's completely unexpected; I didn't order anything, and therefore, the appearance of a large cardboard box on my welcome mat is a bit out of the ordinary, to say the least. It's big, and says it's a hardwood coffee table on the side. For a moment, I wonder if someone sent me a nice present.
I look at the shipping label and notice it's for a "Sarah Smith". The apartment number matches mine, but that's certainly not my name. I think "boy, whichever nice neighbor lugged this huge heavy box up to my apartment wasted their effort, and Sarah, you're a dork for writing in the wrong address." I write a note to the effect of "Dear Sarah Smith, your box is in front of my door on the third floor landing. Unfortunately, due to a back injury, I cannot bring it downstairs again." I walked downstairs and pinned it near the mailboxes.
When I walked back upstairs, I took a moment to recheck the address, and realized that the United Parcel Service had not only delivered it to the wrong person, they'd missed the address by an entire block. Instead of delivering it to the 2400 block, they delivered it to the 2700 block. Sarah Smith doesn't even live on my block, much less in the same building. So I go and retrieve my note and ponder what to do with this lost coffee table.
For a small, selfish moment, I considered just accepting the fact that the Powers That Be had bestowed upon me a free coffee table, but then my concience got the better of me and I called the company which had originally sold Sarah the table.
I explained the situation, and it came down to a few interesting questions concerning the behavior of the UPS deliveryperson:
1)My last name is listed next to the entryway door, next to the apartment number. Clearly, no "Smith" lives at my apartment, much less anywhere else in the complex, and it should therefore be obvious that no "Smith" lives there. Not only that, how could someone just somehow mistake the two address numbers? They're not even close.
2)Taking into consideration that they'd already missed the clues of Name and Address number, why had the box been left at my place like that, anyway? Either the deliveryperson abandoned it on the doorstep as an unsigned delivery (quite a risk, in a semi-urban neighborhood), or he'd had someone who was not the recipient sign for it. Not only that, either the deliveryperson or a nice neighbor dragged the thing up three flights of stairs, still without checking the address.
Since I have a locked entryway at my apartment, there's no way for a deliveryperson to redeliver this package without key access and hiking up to my third floor landing. I can't lug the box downstairs. So I gave the phone guy my landlord's phone number, and I figure that West Elm, UPS, and my landlord can hash out the problem by themselves as to how to get the box to where it needs to go. I figure I've been enough of an altruist, and at that point, it's up to them to resolve their mistakes. It's probably too much to hope for that the box will be gone by this afternoon, but I can hope.
Honestly, though, I'm not reassured with the competence of the UPS delivery system anymore. It probably only happens a fraction of the time, but that's why we have reading comprehension tests in grade school, so that we can all determine the difference between one number and another.
On a purely snarky note, perhaps Sarah will learn not to order furniture from online companies that ship from the other side of the country; and next time, order a less ugly table. Who knows? It might help.
I look at the shipping label and notice it's for a "Sarah Smith". The apartment number matches mine, but that's certainly not my name. I think "boy, whichever nice neighbor lugged this huge heavy box up to my apartment wasted their effort, and Sarah, you're a dork for writing in the wrong address." I write a note to the effect of "Dear Sarah Smith, your box is in front of my door on the third floor landing. Unfortunately, due to a back injury, I cannot bring it downstairs again." I walked downstairs and pinned it near the mailboxes.
When I walked back upstairs, I took a moment to recheck the address, and realized that the United Parcel Service had not only delivered it to the wrong person, they'd missed the address by an entire block. Instead of delivering it to the 2400 block, they delivered it to the 2700 block. Sarah Smith doesn't even live on my block, much less in the same building. So I go and retrieve my note and ponder what to do with this lost coffee table.
For a small, selfish moment, I considered just accepting the fact that the Powers That Be had bestowed upon me a free coffee table, but then my concience got the better of me and I called the company which had originally sold Sarah the table.
I explained the situation, and it came down to a few interesting questions concerning the behavior of the UPS deliveryperson:
1)My last name is listed next to the entryway door, next to the apartment number. Clearly, no "Smith" lives at my apartment, much less anywhere else in the complex, and it should therefore be obvious that no "Smith" lives there. Not only that, how could someone just somehow mistake the two address numbers? They're not even close.
2)Taking into consideration that they'd already missed the clues of Name and Address number, why had the box been left at my place like that, anyway? Either the deliveryperson abandoned it on the doorstep as an unsigned delivery (quite a risk, in a semi-urban neighborhood), or he'd had someone who was not the recipient sign for it. Not only that, either the deliveryperson or a nice neighbor dragged the thing up three flights of stairs, still without checking the address.
Since I have a locked entryway at my apartment, there's no way for a deliveryperson to redeliver this package without key access and hiking up to my third floor landing. I can't lug the box downstairs. So I gave the phone guy my landlord's phone number, and I figure that West Elm, UPS, and my landlord can hash out the problem by themselves as to how to get the box to where it needs to go. I figure I've been enough of an altruist, and at that point, it's up to them to resolve their mistakes. It's probably too much to hope for that the box will be gone by this afternoon, but I can hope.
Honestly, though, I'm not reassured with the competence of the UPS delivery system anymore. It probably only happens a fraction of the time, but that's why we have reading comprehension tests in grade school, so that we can all determine the difference between one number and another.
On a purely snarky note, perhaps Sarah will learn not to order furniture from online companies that ship from the other side of the country; and next time, order a less ugly table. Who knows? It might help.