By me…slowly…with a spoon!
Let me tell you the tale…
Last week, a friend and former co-worker of my mother called and asked if she liked the condolence flowers and sympathy card she had sent. The card was signed by several Polish ladies who had worked with my mother, and the actual plant was rather impressive…
…or so we were led to believe.
My mother received no flowers…though they were supposedly delivered to her house on the Saturday after my father’s funeral, courtesy of the Real Canadian Superstore. Outraged, my mother’s friend phoned up the store and demanded some kind of action.
The store responded by sending a second bouquet of the same flowers…plus an extra bouquet, apologizing for their mistake. This also failed to arrive on my mother’s door step. What the hell was going on?
It turns out that the delivery was sent to another house up the street…twice! Yet the recipient of the delivery failed to notify the store that they had received flowers NOT meant for them. In simple language, they KEPT THE FLOWERS FOR THEMSELVES…
…and so my sister, suitably outraged, left the house and made a bee-line for this gobshite residence of ill-repute, demanding an explanation!
And what WAS this explanation? Apparently, the female adult of the household claimed that “she couldn’t read.”
Because she’s European (hahahahaha)…
Although she admitted she can speak it fairly well…
Pause for hollow, bitter laughter.
This woman, who couldn’t read (but could pay all her household bills, imagine that), spluttered and clutched at straws, in the face of my sister’s ice-cold rage. Suffice to say, the explanation of illiteracy was a piece of unmitigated drivel, and my sister lambasted her with all the English at her command. She later regretted that she didn’t offer to TEACH her the language, being a qualified English teacher…and pissed off to boot!
To keep one mistaken delivery is an act of unbridled mendacity. To throw away the sympathy card…and keep the SECOND mistaken delivery, is an act of white-trash criminality!
Interestingly enough, the husband phoned up the store soon after my sister’s visit to their dwelling of damnation…and informed the disbelieving clerk that they had received a flower delivery in error. Too little, too late…and too preposterous.
I could write out the address of these scum-suckers…but I won’t. Instead, I will simply say this, and let the world make its own judgement:
The people who did this are lower than dogsh-t! Putrifying vomit rejected by the Earth itself! The fungus on the feet of reality! They might as well have spit on my father’s grave. They are conniving, unfeeling louts, with intellects on the level of a mollusk! They should be lucky that I wasn’t the one who paid them a visit…because I would have ended them right there!
As it stands, they should remain worried. The moment my mother’s friend receives the full explanation of what happened to her flowers, there is going to be a mob of angry Polish women (complete with torches and pitchforks) descending on the house owned by these unhinged morons. If karma exists, then whatever retribution awaits them will be most welcome…but they would be wise NEVER to cross my path in this life.
