Yep, finally, I have my ticket.
After calling Wightlink back again on Monday to be told the same vague shit about it "definitely being with me in the next couple of days", I asked to speak to someone who could tell me exactly what was going on. A very helpful supervisor called Henry finally explained that I was just the unlucky one (although not sure how many other people were affected) and he made sure my ticket was sent and called me back a few hours later with the tracking number.
Royal Mail then conspired to ramp up the stress levels that little bit further by having strikes yesterday and today in my area. Gawd bless the scabs' little cottons though, they not only tried to deliver it yesterday, but had the sorting office open this morning for me to pick it up (as it was sent special delivery). Swear to God, if this was some kind of cunning ruse to try and make me appreciate the weekend that is about to unfold, it has bloody worked. I can feel my stress levels rising again just thinking back to the whole episode.
But..... all that remains is for me to construct my Mr Spoon outfit, wake up tomorrow on time, get down to Pompey and get on that boat. It's on. Oh boy, is it on.
No comments:
Post a Comment