15 ottobre 2008

Nice neighbors!

We unloaded boxes from the elevator and then proceeded to move them to our apartment. While we were doing so, the neighbor comes up with the elevator, looks at us and says: "The elevator wouldn't come downstairs. It took 2 minutes to come down". Me: "Yes, we were unloading our stuff". Neighbor (with a smirk): "Yes I figured so".

So... what exactly are you bitching about, dude?????

Delivery Service "all'Italiana"

Few days ago I got a phone call from the delivery service that has my crate coming from the US.

They phoned to know when it was ok for me to have the stuff delivered. I told them either the day after in the afternoon or 2 days later in the morning. They say they would phone me back to let me know when. Obviously (hey they're Italian after all) they did not phone back.

They phoned again yesterday to let me know that "hey we're coming tomorrow, what time is ok for you?". "Anytime after 10.30" I said. Net result: the guy started negotiating the terms the way only Italians can do... and proceeded to tell me how it was "really out of question" for the driver and the special truck to be able to make it "so late" in the morning, because they had "other commitments". He said "9.30 and I'll have the driver call you at 9". Therefore, I had to skip my commitment at 8.30.

Guess what?

The driver phoned me at ELEVEN THIRTY EIGHT (and it's not a typo or an exaggeration). As if that weren't enough to infuriate a person, he also asked me a bunch of logistical questions on which highway exit it was better for him to use in order to make it here "smoothly". I answered "Pisa Nord, then you take the Aurelia, Via Pietrasantia, the underpass, via Cameo, Via Bonanno [It's all straight, they run one into the other... it's basically one same, long street changing name but not direction], the third or fourth street on the right, sorry I don't remember exactly which one". Of course the guy started bitching: "I don't know if I can make it under that underpass". "How in the heck do I know?" I thought.

So I started suggesting an alternative route, realizing only too late that there was another underpass to take. And the guy blurted out: "Oh don't worry, there definitely is an underpass I can take with this truck, I just don't know which one".

Furious, and almost certain that the guy thought I was indeed a human GPS system, I add: "I don't know how tall your truck is, and I don't know how deep the underpass is, so I'm sorry but I can't be of more help".

And the guy says: "Oh don't worry after all I'm still in Viareggio [20km away]".

Now, I need a punching bag.

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