April 26 my home was packed up in London.
The shipper had so many errors in the destination address, only the country and zipcode has any resemblance to accuracy.
In the following weeks, the company has told me:
- What? Your stuff hasn’t arrived yet? Oh it should only be a few more days then
- Your stuff is on a ship, but we don’t know which one, there’s no tracking number you can use
- Your stuff hasn’t shipped, it’s in our warehouse
Looks like the last one is most accurate; they asked me today (5 weeks later) for pages and pages of customs information — maybe they just realized today that New York, NY, 10035 is in a different country (the only possible error would be the word “York” in the name, ignoring all other parts of the address).
They’re also looking for a Notary Public; yeah, those are free. The chickenshit nature of after-the-fact hunting down some stranger to sign a paper for money seems both a late-term pain-in-the-ass and honouring the age-old tradition of strangers saying/writing/stamping anything for money as the basis for a fair, open, accountable administrative system.
Today they asked me the value of all contents of my home — from memory, since I haven’t even seen a manifest, much less have the time to value and depreciate each item.
Since they screwed up the actual sending of the contents, and late-realization of customs forms, I’m worried they’ll choose the Titanic as a ship to blindly toss it at with free abandon.