My subdivision's homeowner's association issued new pool and tennis court passes this year. Mine was left on my front porch with my house number on my street, in a plain white envelope, with no stamp. It was hand-delivered. The envelope was labeled correctly, but the pass was so incorrect. The accompanying letter said to contact the office if it was incorrect.
There is no house numbered 87 on my street. If there were one, it would be on the opposite side of the street, but it goes from 85 to 89. Where 87 would be, if it existed, has a sidewalk in front of it, but is nothing but a grassy slope with a few trees on it. That's the first thing wrong with the pass.
The second thing wrong is that although the country of ancestral origin for my surname appears to be correct, my name isn't Collins. It never was, nor will it ever be. It doesn't even start with the letter C. In fact, nowhere is there a "c" in my first name, my middle name, nor my last name. My whole block is populated with families with last initials B, R, A, and K (not in any particular order from one end to the other). It's possible there's a Collins somewhere in the subdivision, but if so, it's none of the people I know from across the street, either. Nobody around here is an immigrant, but the names are all English, Italian or Jewish.
The third thing wrong with the pass wasn't what was printed out on it, but had to do with the orientation of the card itself as it was slipped into the plastic badge holder with a pin on the back. It was inserted backward, so that if I actually were to pin it onto an article of clothing, what you see in the above picture would have been facing my shirt, and the lock number for the tennis courts would have been facing outward. I'd give the person who assembled it a D-. The only reason I'd grade the effort above an F is because the card actually was slipped inside the plastic. Next time, bonehead, read the instructions. Oh, there weren't any? I guess you'll have to write the manufacturer of those plastic name badge holders a letter and demand a set of instructions for their proper use. "Caution: do not insert cardboard name badge after imbibing a 6-pack for lunch."
There is no house numbered 87 on my street. If there were one, it would be on the opposite side of the street, but it goes from 85 to 89. Where 87 would be, if it existed, has a sidewalk in front of it, but is nothing but a grassy slope with a few trees on it. That's the first thing wrong with the pass.
The second thing wrong is that although the country of ancestral origin for my surname appears to be correct, my name isn't Collins. It never was, nor will it ever be. It doesn't even start with the letter C. In fact, nowhere is there a "c" in my first name, my middle name, nor my last name. My whole block is populated with families with last initials B, R, A, and K (not in any particular order from one end to the other). It's possible there's a Collins somewhere in the subdivision, but if so, it's none of the people I know from across the street, either. Nobody around here is an immigrant, but the names are all English, Italian or Jewish.
The third thing wrong with the pass wasn't what was printed out on it, but had to do with the orientation of the card itself as it was slipped into the plastic badge holder with a pin on the back. It was inserted backward, so that if I actually were to pin it onto an article of clothing, what you see in the above picture would have been facing my shirt, and the lock number for the tennis courts would have been facing outward. I'd give the person who assembled it a D-. The only reason I'd grade the effort above an F is because the card actually was slipped inside the plastic. Next time, bonehead, read the instructions. Oh, there weren't any? I guess you'll have to write the manufacturer of those plastic name badge holders a letter and demand a set of instructions for their proper use. "Caution: do not insert cardboard name badge after imbibing a 6-pack for lunch."
1 Comments:
Hoo boy. That's almost too much to chalk up to a mixup. Somethin's been outsourced somewhere.
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