"Hello Mr. Sanderson, we're just calling to confirm your delivery tomorrow of a chest of drawers and two trunks. It'll be between nine and eleven o'clock."
A two-hour window; they missed by an hour and a half. To their credit, however, the chaps who turned up were extremely patient with the concept that I was still in bed. And the wood, I discover, is very nearly the same as the backs of my internal doors. I knew I'd seen it somewhere before.
Just the errant wardrobe to arrive, now. It should have turned up yesterday, but apparently there was a mix-up with faxes and whether the shop assistant Geoff actually has a clue, and it didn't so much as move off the shop floor. Between nine and twelve, they say, but it's the same company as the other stuff, so...
Hmmm, they obviously need to take a leaf out of BT’s book and just tell you, “Sometime today”, and then promise you they’ll try their hardest to keep to that ‘appointment’, cough…
I find it far more useful spending all day at home waiting for someone.