Hermes? Shmermes!
Ahh Hermes, the part time job of choice for frustrated housewives!
My local Hermes courier drives a clapped out Antara that you can hear from 23 miles away, uses the end of my road as a makeshift sorting office - that includes dumping her entire days load (oooh, missus) onto the street, rain or shine and resorting it. She employs her children during the school holidays and doesn’t get her rotund arse out the drivers seat. Persistently walks over my front garden and refuses point blank to leave parcels where instructed. She seems to have a fear of doorbells and always chooses a “neighbour” in a different postcode.
My heart sinks when I’m told a parcel is coming via Hermes..... they may be worse than Yodel.... may be....
Biting the hand that feeds IT
