The postman always rings twice, always rings too loud, always rings ten minutes before your alarm’s due to go off, and always rings and runs away before you get to the door.

To hell with the postman.
Yesterday I was pleased to get home and discover that I had mail. Well, I kind of had mail. I had glossy mail, that some would call junk. I would too. But then I noticed that it promised specific omniscience, and I got kind of sucked in.

It was red, and shiny, and addressed to whoever lived in the house, and had the words ‘The Royal Mail: Working for YOU’ on the front – that, or some equivalent corporate wank, I forget.

Under the big banner corporate title, however, was the winning promise:

‘Containing everything you want to know about your post:

We deliver the answers to all your questions…’

Really?

Excellent.

Well, where are those books from Amazon I ordered last week?

And you know that bill you delivered yesterday? Well, I don’t want to open it. What does it say? Am I in trouble?

Why is it, please, that when I open the door to your irate employee, he always insists on chastising me for the diminutive size of my landlady’s slot? What exactly does he think I’m going to do about it?

And what more, exactly, does he think I’m going to do about it the 27th time he tells me?

And does he have to shout quite so much?

Is it legal to post goldfish?

I’ve lost my childhood correspondence to/from my friend Dan. Do you know where it is? I thought it was in the attic, but I was wrong. Where is it?

Why don’t nice letters ever come in brown envelopes?

Who keeps pooing in front of my house? Is it the postman? If not, does he know who it is?

Are all envelopes vegetarian? I mean, I don’t care, I’m not vegetarian, but if you can go as far as knowing they’re vegetarian, could you at least make them taste of ‘nice’? Mango chutney or something?

I keep forgetting to tell people where I live. Could you get my postman to? Because he knows where I live.

Can you tell him not to shout, when he does tell them?

Also, where are those books I ordered from Amazon?

Yes, again. Well, they still haven’t arrived. Where are they?

Of course, I don’t know the answers to any of these questions yet, because I haven’t opened the leaflet.

I will open it, and let you know.