Dear people of England

My house has a name, not a street number.  That’s right JUST a name.  So when I call you and ask for a taxi, curry delivery, council tax account, whatever, I will not be able to give you a number for my house.  i am not doing this out of spite.  I am not trying to be difficult, it’s just that my house DOES NOT HAVE A NUMBER.  It never, ever has.  If you will take two seconds to stop proclaiming about the rarity and preposterous nature of this basic simple fact I will tell you exactly where my house is.  It will in fact be super easy to find if you what just shut the hey up and let me talk. 

Please stop giving me guff about the fact that there is no number.  I did not decide to give my house a name (if I had it would be IHOP), this is how it was when I moved in.Please don’t tell me how difficult this makes your life, I don’t care.  I only care about how difficult you are making my life with your repeated statements of disbelief.

And here’s the thing, generally in this sort of situation, you know where I call you to ask to buy something from you and have it delivered to my un-numbered ridiculously named house, I am trying to give you money.  That’s right, I want to pay you and support your business.  But you are making it really, really difficult because you won’t let me talk.  And that will lead me to hang up the phone and call someone else to make the order in the hopes that they will be able to grasp this difficult and brain bending concept.

Also, I would like to point out again, I did not choose for my house to have a name rather than a number, I admit I was excited about it when we moved in, but I didn’t start this vicious cycle.  Some other English person did, so please also stop treating me like a pain in the ass American who doesn’t understand how addresses work.  This naming of houses is an English thing, mine is not the only one. 

So please, stop being such massive douchebags about it on the phone, it’s really annoying.

Also, just as a friendly reminder, my name is still Carolyn, not Caroline.  I know we’ll get this straight one day.  Maybe.

Kindest regards,

Carolyn

Advertisements

2 Comments

Filed under correspondence, grumpus, the travails of living abroad

2 responses to “Dear people of England

  1. I used to live in a street that wasn’t in the A-Z. Cab drivers, while actually parked on the street itself, would deny it’s existence and refuse to let me out till we found it.

    • carolynintheuk

      I had a taxi driver in Detroit once who insisted that I didn’t know where my street was and then tried to charge me extra money after going to the wrong side of town. And another who tried to convince me that Tupac was still alive (2+ years after his death) “because the man’s still releasing tapes, can’t be dead if he’s still making music.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s