Delivery men

A delivery man called to my door earlier. He had a delivery. He delivered the delivery to me, took out an electronic device and said ‘Sign here’, pointing to the screen. I signed. It looked a bit like this:

sig

This is because those things are impossible to write on. A little pencily-nib dealy and a dodgy screen and any old cunt could sign any old thing and nobody would ever know the difference.

Surely it makes deliveries ripe for not being delivered. Old Delivery O’Toole decides he’ll keep your thing, scratches a signature on it and then if you complain you haven’t received it they’ll say “But we have your signature!”

“That’s not my signature”, you’ll reply and they’ll say “Well, sign another one of these machines and we’ll compare” and as your signature is nothing but the scrawl of a window-licker on that device they’ll just laugh and your delivery is gone forever.

Bring back pen and paper, I say, before nobody ever gets any deliveries ever again.

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