Penguin in London (less useful than in Hawaii).
I’m video chatting with Jackie and she says, “Wouldn’t it be funny if you took your board all over Europe and you didn’t have it in Hawaii?”
Yes, Jac, that would be hilarious. And I would cry. And it is a real possibility.
I arrange for a courier to retrieve my board in Pottsville and deliver it to Jon’s house in Coogee. Supposedly, it will take two days. Supposedly they will pick it up tomorrow. At the end of tomorrow, Rita texts to inform me that nobody came for the board. I call the company from Canberra and they say, “Well, let me just call the driver and get back to you in a few minutes.”
An hour later, as their office is about to close, I still haven’t heard back. When I call, I ask for Mike (the guy I talked to before) and the woman says, “Ah yes, I think he mentioned you.”
“Let me check if it was picked up,” says entirely unhelpful Mike.
“I can tell you that it wasn’t.”
“Yes, the driver said he didn’t have time and it will definitely be picked up tomorrow.”
“Okay, great thank you.”
The following day, I have a very similar conversation.
Like four days later, I’m in Sydney and leaving the country very, very soon. I have talked to the shipping company countless times in the last week and a half. I’m finallllyyy notified that the board will be in Coogee on April 5th. My flight to Kauai is on the 6th; if I fuck this up, I really won’t have a board in Hawaii.
As it’s a weekday, both Jon and Danny are working. I no longer have keys to the apartment. Furthermore, I have no idea what time to expect this delivery, and I definitely have to sign for it. How could I possibly botch this?