So I have to drive down to south Louisiana on business. I get to spend a night in a relaxing, luxurious bed and breakfast plantation home and get paid doing it. Sounds great huh?!? Why am I so lucky? Well you see, I'll be redesigning their existing brochure and website, so as the graphic artist, I have to experience it to be able to convey what it's like to potential customers. So the plan was to leave work around noon. Drive 1.5 hours to Franklin. Meet with client for maybe 2 hours. Sleep.
Well... I got as far as... 0.25 miles. Then the "fun" part started. It was supposed to take 15 minutes to get out of Baton Rouge. It took 1.5 hours. Why? Because for some reason, the police felt the need to block off every entrance to the Interstate to "alleviate traffic congestion". I tried every intersection from College Dr. to Bluebonnet... where I was finally able to get on and continue driving towards Sorrento. At this point... I'll be an hour late for my meeting.
So I make it as far as Morgan City, behind the farm vehicles and the state troopers and potholes, all of which slow me down to the actual speed limit or less. Grrrrr! I need to get back onto the interstate in Morgan City (although a different one from the one going through Baton Rouge). When behold, the sherriff's officer a car ahead of me drives halfway up on the on ramp and blocks it with his lights on. We sit there for almost an hour...
Then for no apparent reason, he gets back in his car and drives off... hmmm
Tack on another full hour to being late to my meeting...
Get back on the road... rolling (admittedly very fast)... I see more blue lights.
AGHHHHHHHHHHHH! WHAT NOW! I see massively twisted vehicles strewn across the entire highway... geez... I get rerouted to Hwy 6something-or-nother-that-i-have-no-idea-where-it-goes. So what do I do... I follow the big trucks. I figure they of all people have the highest percentage of getting back on the right road. 30 minutes later... my guess was right.
I FINALLY arrive to my meeting.... 2.5 hours late. Always the right way to impress a client.
At least I did eventually get to sleep. I'm home now. I just spent a completely absurd amount of time trying to figure out what FedEx is doing to my packages. I think they think because I live out in the stix that means they are under no obligation to deliver my packages.
One time, the driver listed my package as undelieverable because... my house burnt down. Wow... I wonder who's house he was looking at... cause it wasn't mine.
Last time, the driver delievered my package to the wrong address. It was a neighbor that recently relocated to Baton Rouge, so... they weren't there to even sign for the package. That's okay.. the driver just signed for it himself and left if on the doorstep... where it stayed for over 2 days... Did I mention it was raining?
So... I admit. I wasn't here to get my package yesterday. I was going through roadwars with the cops on the pothole infested highways of south Louisiana. But why... was my package being held for pickup all the way at the sort facility in south Baton Rouge? The only reasonable answer is that I called and requested it to be held that. Maybe it was my evil twin... maybe one of those other personalities reached out and dialed the numbers... but I certainly didn't. Which of course means I have to find the spare time and gas to go pick up a package that is supposed to be at my house. Or I can call and... for lack of a better phrase. Bitch. Well gas is expensive now, so I called.
It was so hard being meanly stern though... cause the FedEx customer service person obviously had terrets which considerably lengthened my phone call.... because everything was repeated 6 billion times!
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