“Mr. Mitchell?”
“Yep. This is Nathan.”
“Hi. It’s Robert from Star Removals.”
“What can I do for you, Robert?” I could sense the bad news coming. They wouldn’t be ringing if they were on schedule.
“There’s been a bit of a delay. There was an accident on the highway and it’s been closed. Pretty bad, from what I understand.”
Frustrated, I didn’t even bother to hide it. “How long, Robert?”
“We’re running about four hours behind.”
“So I’m not expecting you any minute, but…” I looked at my watch and groaned. “You’ll be here around two?”
“At this stage.”
“What do you mean, at this stage? I paid the additional fees for guaranteed delivery. I expect my furniture here. Today.”
I heard him huff down the phone. His customer service was bullshit. “I understand that, Mr. Mitchell. We anticipate between two and three this afternoon, unless any other unforeseen and unavoidable circumstances arise.”
“Just get here,” I pretty much growled as I disconnected the call. “Fuck it all!” I threw the phone across the room, only satisfied by the crunching sound as it crashed to the tiles.
Without pausing, I was back on my bike and headed to the store. I needed cleaning supplies. And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.
