Other Stuff–Kafka Lives

When I came home from work on Friday evening there was a form from FedEx stuck on my door. They had tried to deliver something to me at 12:36 pm but I wasn’t in. Well, yeah, I was at work, eh? The note, addressed to ‘Lynn’, said they would be back on Monday to try and deliver the package. It said it I wanted to pick it up it was at 315 Lakeshore Blvd. East but I was to call a 1-800 number first. The numbers spelled out “GoFEDEX” –easy to misread that, doncha know.  If I wanted to make alternate arrangements I had to call the 1-800 number as well (GoF….).

On Saturday morning, I called the 1-800 number. A droning recorded voice said if I wanted ‘English,’ I was to say ‘English.’ I said ‘English’. Then I had to tell the system what I wanted. If I wanted to change a pick-up arrangement, I had to say that. I said that. Then the voice asked for my account number so they would know what to charge. That’s not what I meant so I hung up and went to brunch with friends.

Later I called again, said ‘English’ again, said I wanted to change the address to which the package should be delivered. The voice said it didn’t know what I was talking about and was going to redirect me to a live person. Gretta came on the line. She checked my name and tracking number on the form. She asked what I wanted to do. I wanted the package to be sent to my work address and not my home address where I would not be because I would be working. Gretta said I would have to call the shipping company to change the delivery address. I said I didn’t know what the shipping company was as I had not ordered anything requiring FedEx. She said again that the item would be delivered on Monday to my home address. I kept calm and said I would be at work. Gretta said she was sorry. I looked at the Toronto address on the form where I could pick it up and asked Gretta where she was (meaning the nearest cross-street for the location).  Gretta said, “South America.” She wasn’t kidding and I didn’t laugh out loud. I said “Thank you” and hung up.

I was curious about this delivery so decided to call the 1-800 number again, to arrange to pick up whatever it was. Same drill. ‘English’. “Arrange to pick up an item.” Roberto came on the line. He took my name and tracking number. I asked again about changing the delivery address. Again I had to contact the shipper. I didn’t know the shipper as I didn’t order anything. Yadayada….

FedEX in Toronto was open on Saturdays from noon to 4. And on weekdays to 9 pm. I had to see a one act play that started at 2:45 pm and ended at 3:45 pm. The theatre was downtown. I could drive fast and hope for the best in arriving at FedED on time. I asked where Roberto was. He hesitated a bit and said quietly, “Mexico.”  Hmmmm Gretta was in South America. Roberto was in Mexico. These agents are getting closer to Canada.

The play got out early. I drove quickly to the FedEX address and just made it with a minute to spare. I gave them my FedEX slip with the tracking number. I showed them photo-ID, my passport. They also needed something with my address. Simple—my driver’s license. It’s in my wallet. But not this time. Frantic. Where is it??? I unpacked lots of stuff. No licence. The guy would accept my address labels as proof. Relief. (But where is the damned license??). He brought out a large box. While signing for it I asked, “Who’s it from?” He said, “Ellen Gordon…”  “OH MY GOD!” says I.

Ellen Gordon is the President of Tootsie Roll Industries. Her husband, Melvin Gordon is the Chairman. I wrote both of them asking if I could use the official logo of the Tootsie Pop for my Tootsie Awards (posted earlier).

Inside the large box she was sending me were three boxes of 100 Tootsie Pops each, and a letter from Mrs. Gordon. Alas the lawyers were strict and could not allow anyone to use their logo. But here were three boxes of the pops and her thanks. Sweet.

I sit here sucking on a chocolate Tootsie Pop, reveling in my Kafkaesque good fortune. And wonder where’s my driver’s licence?  South America?