I had actually vowed not to order anything from Amazon anymore – for various reasons that I don’t want to go into here.

But the fact is that you simply can’t get certain things anywhere else, for example a bird feeder made of plexiglass and an extremely intelligently designed suet ball holder. So I had no choice but to break my vow.

My order was followed by various emails with the usual blabla: „Thank you for your order“, „estimated delivery on …“ and so on. On Wednesday, March 27, 2024, the message „Your order will be delivered“ fluttered into my inbox. Aha, good to know. When? „During the course of the day.“ Hmm, can you maybe be a bit more specific?

On that Wednesday in question, I had to attend a theater rehearsal, which didn’t start until 7 p.m. So I thought I was on the safe side. By then, I thought, they would have made it.

They hadn’t made it by 6 p.m. So I got into my car, grumbling, and went off for my appointment. The time for the journey was generous, but I wanted to get a roll and a cold drink from the discount store on the way and also not show up at the last minute. I don’t like being late.

The rehearsal started promptly at 7 p.m. At exactly 7:12 p.m. my mobile rang, which immediately brought me the disapproving attention of the entire ensemble. Of course, mobiles had to be on silent during the rehearsal. I knew that. Unfortunately, I had forgotten about that because normally nobody calls me at that time.

I pulled my phone out of my bag with flying fingers, wanted to hang up the call, but swiped into the wrong direction and someone promptly called „Hello? Hello?“ into my ear. So I stumbled outside as quickly as possible. (Note: This brazen act got me kicked out of the group a few weeks later, but that’s another story.)

„This is Amazon,“ I was told. „Can we speak English please?“

The question didn’t surprise me at all. I’ve had to discuss things in English with Amazon drivers before, but just for the record: Here you’re in Germany, my friend, and here we normally speak German.

Well, at least the man was providing for his own livelihood and wasn’t a burden on the state like so many other so-called „refugees.“ It’s up to the employer to decide what quality standards he sets when selecting his employees. At Amazon, they don’t seem to be particularly high, because sometimes the guys drive over fences and then just take off.

So we spoke English. Where should he leave the package now? I told him he should try my nice neighbor Mrs. G. or my nice neighbor Mr. L., for whom I had dragged the extremely heavy cat tree into my living room a few days ago.

Could I spell the name? Of course, L for Ludwig… um. At that moment I realized that I might not be successful with German spelling. How did the international alphabet work again?

Back when I was a child and regularly watched „Flipper“ and „Daktari“ on TV, I knew it by heart. Now all I could remember was Charlie, Delta, Foxtrot and Tango. Unfortunately, Mr. L. does not have any of these letters in his name.

So I spelled without the suffixes and the Amazon man rang. As expected, nothing happened. I had the thought that the boy might not be very good at reading German either… just a thought.

Couldn’t he leave the package in the hallway? No! Definitely no! Experiences – especially those of my neighbors – had taught us in the past that even packages that actually required a hand truck suddenly disappeared if they were left unattended in the hallway for more than half an hour.

My counter question: Couldn’t he deposit the package in the nearest packing station? No, I would have to contact Amazon for that. Aha.

Next counter question: Could he perhaps deliver the package on Saturday? No, I would have to contact Amazon for that. Aha.

He would just come back tomorrow. Well, that was a nice idea, but didn’t help because I would be out of the house all day tomorrow, not just a quarter of the day. I huffed in annoyance.

„Sorry, madam, I am only the driver.“ Yes, of course, I know. So we said goodbye, me with the unsatisfying feeling that my bird feeder would now continue to drive around aimlessly.

Back home, I tried to use the Amazon website to reschedule my package to another day or redirect it to my daughter. The „other-day“-option didn’t work at all. To redirect my parcel, I first had to add my daughter’s address to my account and then click a certain button. Then I waited for some confirmation, something like: „Okay, we got it, we’ll do it.“ The doubts that it would work continued to gnaw at me.

The next day, I set off for West Germany at 10:00 a.m. to do Easter shopping with my mother. Things like that usually take a while. So I couldn’t start my journey home until around 5:00 p.m. My phone was in its holder on the windshield so that Google Auntie could help me anticipate the various traffic jams on the highway A2 in time and avoid them – which proved to be extremely helpful.

I would be home at 6:17 p.m., Auntie promised. At 6:15 p.m. I was driving past Magdeburg’s West Cemetery when my cell phone rang and a number appeared on the display – the same number as yesterday. Hey, that was so obvious!

„Would you like to take the call?“ asked my phone.

„No!“ I shouted furiously. What for, if the guy was standing at my front door again instead of my daughter’s?

My phone fell silent, insulted. Instead, my head started working. Wait a minute, I was how many meters away from my front door? Maybe the driver had more packages to deliver to the barracks. The Encke Barracks in Magdeburg, where I live, is pretty large after all. Maybe… if I was lucky…

I stepped on the gas and drove into the first driveway as a precaution. Actually, walking speed is required in the area, but I couldn’t take that into account at that moment. After some hair-raising turns around various corners, I actually spotted the blue van – up ahead, about 150 meters away!

„Go on, grab it!“ I said to my Herbie and switched to third gear. A woman was walking along the roadside and I casually hoped that she wasn’t about to cross the street right now. Excuse me, please let me through. I’m on the hunt for Amazon.

Three seconds later I stood behind the car and just then he drove off. Wait a minute, my friend, that wasn’t the bet we made! Without hesitation, I clung to his heels… um, taillights. He drove out of the gate, turned left and had to wait at the red light. Very good. I positioned myself behind him and waited anxiously to see which way he would turn now – determined to chase him all across town if necessary.

First he stood there without even flashing his lights. Then he flashed right, then left. Then the hazard lights came on. Apparently the man didn’t know where he was going, or he didn’t know how to use the many buttons in his cockpit. In the end, however, he decided to go left. So I turned left too. About a hundred meters further on, he drove into a parking lot behind a row of houses. I followed him undeterred until he finally stopped in front of a house entrance. Ha! Gotcha!

At first, the young man was a bit frightened when I rushed up to him and demanded my package. But then he seemed quite happy that he could get rid of it.

I returned home to my base in good mood and sat down on the sofa with my mobile phone to chill a bit after the long day. In my inbox, I found an email from the parcel service GLS, in which they told me that they wanted to deliver the bird food for my bird feeder on Tuesday, April 2nd, between 12 and 2 p.m.

Well, that was quite an announcement. At least then you knew when you could shower safely. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be home on that particular Tuesday either, but would be on my way west again – on the road to the town of Göttingen.

So I clicked on the „Track shipment“ button. Oh, look! I actually had a variety of options, for example the option „Delivery on a different day“. I selected „Thursday, April 4th“ and pressed „Confirm“. Five minutes later, an email was in my mailbox: „Sure, will be done.“ Very good! Apparently, things are going well at GLS.

That’s what is called service, dear Amazonians!