1. I smoke cigarettes. Why would I? Why? I’m quite happy for my National Insurance contibutions to go towards looking after some other cretin without putting myself in the position to reap the benefits myself.

2. I would give a random cave-dweller one of my cigarettes if I did indeep have a cancer fetish.

Now, I’m not fully versed with smokers ettiquete or general lack there of. I know they like sharing their smoke but do they like sharing their smokes? If I saw a fellow motorcyclist broken down at the side of the road I would stop and offer assistance (albeit limited). Are smokers the same? If another smoker is in need will others come out of the woodwork to help? Is it legitimate to beg as a smoker?

Just after I’d got over this minor inconveniance (which ended with a simple ‘No’ from me) I was on my way into work this morning when another fine member of society barked ‘Got a lighter?’.

I’ve heard that having a packet of cigarettes and a lighter in your pocket is a good idea when travelling in underdeveloped and remote parts of the world, in order to make instant ‘friends’ and carry out minor barterings…maybe the same applies just to go about your business unhassled in Birmingham City Centre.

I recently ordered something online which was duly despatched and given a unique Royal Mail tracking number which was then passed onto me by the retailer. After 7 working days (I tend to give Royal Mail 3-5 day delivery at least a week before I start worrying at the best of times, let alone when they’ve all been cocking about toasting marshmallows outside the depot for a week instead of doing the job they signed up for…anyway I digress), so…After 7 working days I log onto the Royal Mail webshite to see exactly what isn’t going on. Interesting, the webshite tells me that an attempt to deliver the item was made the previous morning (when I was in) and a red card was left (which it wasn’t).

So off I trundled to the Sorting Office which itself seems to be a bit of a misrepresentation, I suspect, given the state of the place, that there’s a lot more pratting around goes on there than sorting…I was to be proved right. I was greeted by a disinterested woman whose job it appeared was to tell everyone who came in they needed to go to the next counter, I obliged with my patience dwindling but still just about intact. I explained my dilemma to a man who told me that ‘a card should have been left’…’yes I know, thank you!’ He trundled off, there was rummaging, swearing, more rummaging, laughing before he re-emerged empty handed with an irrelevant and already answered question.

At this point I stated that I’d had enough and wanted to speak to the Deliveries Manager, his response was to tell me to stop shouting, I hadn’t raised my voice in the slightest but that appeared irrelevant and possibly well beyond his intellectual ability to comprehend (it is obviously the stock line there are all told so when they take me to court for calling them stupid they can prove how defensive they were being, once again I digress but it is probably worth pointing out the inverse correlation between the increasing number of ‘don’t abuse our staff’ signs and the lack of actual service often recieved. Perhaps more time wondering why people abuse your staff and less time spent making signs on Word would be a good idea). Deliveries Manager appeared with freshly donned hi-vis vest, the cretin’s self-created symbol of authority. I went through the trauma of explaining the error of his staff’s ways. The root of Royal Mail’s problems quickly became apparent; Chief Cretin didn’t seem to quite understand how his staff’s failings were his responsibility. He stated to me that he didn’t know where my parcel was (remember that unique tracking number???) and he didn’t know why the webshite was telling me it was at his depot, this saw the end of my patience which resulted in tango-clad-twat asking me what I wanted him to do…’Jump off the roof’ would have probably been met with less surprise than the ‘find my parcel’ that I settled on. I left the depot empty handed but not before suggesting if the Royal Mail spent more time doing the job they are paid to do and less time sending out Christmas cards in the middle of November (detailing when you would need to post your own cards if you wanted them to arrive this side of Easter) then perhaps they wouldn’t be in such a shit state. I think I’m correct in understanding that the latest marshmallow toasting is in protest to the modernisation of the Royal Mail that will result in the laying off of some staff. Well crack on, it doesn’t seem like it would do much harm, I suggest starting with the Aston un-Deliveries Office. If you want support, do your bloody job. Until the Royal Mail pedalo finally goes under, consider this http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/business/8297025.stm , yes it will cost you more to use an alternative but at least they will be interested by your custom. The quicker Royal Mail dies the quicker a decent alternative will emerge.