Since Royal Mail's reorganisation earlier in the year, we never know when our post is going to be delivered. Depending upon the levels of staff sickness and/or holiday leave, it could be any time between 8.15 a.m. and 1.00 p.m.
I spot a postal van outside my office window at 11.45 a.m. I go out to investigate.
A postal worker is waiting by the side of the road. I ask her if they have our post. She says yes, probably, but she doesn't know where the van driver is so she can't deliver it yet.
I relay this to a work colleague.
She says there was a Royal Mail delivery driver in her home town, a very intelligent good looking man, who one day stopped his van in the middle of the road and walked away. He never came back.
He can still be seen walking the streets, beard down to his navel, muttering to himself.
Twenty minutes later, our post is delivered.
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