Sort it out

I'm not sure there's anywhere in the world I hate more than the Bethnal Green sorting office. The Bethnal Green sorting office not only covers Bethnal Green inhabitants, but also a large swathe of Hackney. Hackney is big.

This is how it works:

Day One: Your postman tries to deliver a package. You're not in. A little red slip is pushed through your letterbox, saying you can phone to arrange another delivery. But not now, obviously. The office is closed from 1 p.m. and your post isn't delivered until 2.

Day Two: You phone the sorting office. Ten times. It is engaged every time. Finally it rings! And rings, and rings and rings. No-one answers and eventually the line goes dead.

Day Three - 7 a.m.: You drive to the sorting office, just after it opens at 7 a.m. You have to park illegally. The queue of people with little red slips is already stretching halfway down the street.

7.02: You join the back of the queue.

7.10: The queue hasn't moved yet.

7.30: The queue has moved sufficiently so you're now inside the building. There is only one window serving everyone. When the person at the front of the queue hands their slip of paper over, the post office employee leaves the room, goes upstairs, bangs round a bit and comes back down about five minutes later. Always with an excuse and never with a package. It is the policy of Bethnal Green sorting office to never give out packages. They've got a little banner above the window saying, "Never knowingly distributing post since 1992".

8.00: You've made it! The front of the queue! Expectantly, you hand your slip of paper to the person behind the counter. They disappear. There is banging. And more banging.

8.02: A sense of nervousness, not experienced since A-levels engulfs you.

8.03: The door opens... the post person appears... empty-handed. "Sorry love, we've not had that back here yet. Sometimes things get delayed a bit. Try again tomorrow."

8.04: You return to your car and peel the parking ticket from your windscreen, and look forward to repeating the experience tomorrow.

Such is my dread of the place, I will endeavour to have packages sent absolutely anywhere other than my home address. Unfortunately, I don't really have an office address as such at the moment, and some work stuff was sent to my home. So yesterday I had to go to the sorting office and pick it up.

It went something like this:

11.00: Drive to sorting office.

11.02: Park in one of the ample parking spaces.

11.03: Walk straight up to the counter and hand in slip.

11.04: Receive package and drive home.

It was brilliant! So if anyone wants to send me a package, that'll be fine. No pressure.