Scary day I was left phone alone
A friend recently told me that when she feels sad about the state of the world, she forces herself to remember one simple fact. Most people are nice.
It’s comforting, definitely... and true, hopefully. But sometimes the other side of that coin comes back to bite you, right on your own doorstep, in one of the most mixed up metaphors of all time.
Yesterday, my doorbell rang. It was a DPD driver, with two packages, one for me and one for my husband. Puzzled – I wasn’t expecting a delivery, and my husband hasn’t bought anything since 1985 – I opened mine straight away. Inside was a top of the range iPhone XS Max – a grand and a half ’s worth of kit.
I wondered if I’d won a competition I’d forgotten entering, or if Christmas had come early. Then I saw the letter from Three mobile, thanking me for joining them... which I hadn’t.
I rang my husband and he was as confused as I was. We were still on the phone when the doorbell rang again. It had probably been about a minute since the DPD guy had left. Standing on the doorstep now was another man, with a clipboard. He said he was from DPD, that there’d been a mistake, and he had to take the delivery back. Something didn’t feel right. “Have you got any ID?” I asked. He was instantly furious. “I don’t know what you want from me!” he shouted, even though I had just very clearly told him.
We stared at each other. He looked like he wanted to punch me and grab the packages, but the twin facts that I had a vagina and was on the phone to someone appeared to be throwing him off.
“Are you saying you won’t give me them?” he asked, angrily.
“Yes I am,” I said, surprising myself, and closing the door. This was the most assertive I have ever been. Big day for me. Unfortunately, it then turned into a terrifying one as I realised I was home alone, with three grand’s worth of stuff that baddies wanted. Baddies who had obviously been watching my home, because they arrived so immediately after the delivery. Would they really just give up and move on? Surely they would want their stuff, by hook or by crook? Suddenly being all amazing and assertive seemed like the stupidest thing anyone had ever done. This was at least more familiar territory.
I wished I’d just given them what they wanted, so it was all over.
It was a windy day, so there was lots of noise outside as things blew around... and I jumped out of my skin at every sound. I became convinced the front door was going to be kicked in any second.
I rang Three to try to work out what had happened, and see if our bank details had been nicked too – they advised me to call the police after telling me this scam is becoming more and more common.
The police said the crooks had probably got our names and address from the electoral roll or junk mail. The sense of unfairness at being targeted was only exacerbated by the sense we were being punished for doing two socially conscious things – voting and recycling.
At the time of writing, my front door remains unkicked in. So far.
The police took the phones, so I couldn’t give them to anyone who turned up now anyway... I feel like writing a sign saying that and putting it in the window.
I also feel frightened, unsafe in my own home and like I need a shredder. Most people nice. But the sad truth is, when someone who isn’t gets that close to you, they’re all you can see.
I had three grand’s worth of stuff that the baddies wanted