spiky thursday

I don't often get mad. But two days ago, when the articles that were supposed to be delivered more than three weeks ago still hadn't arrived, and a whole series of promises had been broken, and I had had to put even more money on my cell phone to chase them, I got a little bit Italian.

Two days later (on the latest promised delivery date) I got a text instead of a phonecall to give the newest excuse. And the next promise... 100% assurance that said items would be delivered before noon today.

I waited.

I went next door for a birthday lunch (yummmmm).

My cell phone rang. It was my friend from the agriturismo. The shop owner had called her and asked her to tell me that the said objects, when unloaded, were not the colour I had ordered. They have been re-ordered. They are now due next Monday. I burst out laughing. (Not so Italian after all).

There was absolutely no reason why he couldn't have called me to explain that to me. After all, my number is well and truly in his cell phone. He would have had to look up my friend's number in the phone book. Hey, I think there is at least one Italian man a tiny bit scared of me!

Today I am grateful for a useful vocabulary.