You see, this evening marked the third or fourth time I've found out from a worldwide, highly reputable delivery service (this description does not include the pizza places mentioned above) that my "delivery address does not exist." It's lots of fun to pay for expedited shipping only to discover that you can't be shipped to due to your own nonexistence.
Granted, my house address is a little misleading. The house itself is in a little community of homes off one street, and the house address bears the name of another teensy street that forms that back border of the small neighborhood. But let's go over a few key points here:
1. The teensy street EXISTS.
2. The teensy street has a NAME.
3. The teensy street has a LEGIBLE ROAD SIGN.
4. It is the year 2007 (soon to be 2008!) and I do reckon there's better technology out there than paper maps and compasses. (No, I'm not besmirching the glory of the compass. But an in-cab cheapo GPS system seems fairly routine these days, and what stops 'em from calling the main office or--dare I say it?--the phone number on the shipping label, my number, for more descriptive directions?)
Now I have to wait a whole extry day for this and this.
And that makes me feel like this:
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