I work for a logistics company, specifically for the international contingent of the business. I deal with couriers, customers and customs all over the world; for the most part, this essentially involves helping people fix the stuff they didn’t do right when they shipped their package in the first place.
This particular call relates to an imported parcel from the Netherlands.
M = Me WD = Worried Dad
M: Good afternoon, *** Dept, IntLogistic speaking how can i help?
WD: Hi, my name is WorriedDad, my son has sent me a parcel from the Netherlands, would you like the tracking number?
M: Yes please, go ahead.
He then proceeds to give me the tracking number for his package, i pull up the information and its out for delivery, usually good news to any sender or recipient, anywhere in the world.
M: Its currently out for delivery to your…
WD: OH PLEASE NO!
M: I’m sorry sir, what?
WD: My son has sent me some green stuff as a joke and I’ve been trying to contact someone to get it stopped so he doesn’t go to prison?
M: [taken aback] Right, okay… i see… sorry sir, could you be more specific?
Obviously, given the item has come from the Netherlands, and he has described the contents as ‘green stuff’, i know he’s speaking about Marijuana, but i’m not going to just assume that, thereby accusing his son of distributing illegal substances
WD: My son is on holiday in Amsterdam and thought it would be funny to send me some weed!
Now, as its out for delivery, its already gone through customs and is on the van already. In the event we’re advised there’s something illegal in a package, we have to try and intercept.
M: Okay sir, have you reported this to the police?
WD: No! Ofcourse not! I don’t want my son to be arrested!
M: Okay sir, not to worry, bear with me one moment, i’ll need to put you on hold whilst i contact the depot to get this intercepted for you.
WD: Thank you so much! My son won’t be in trouble will he?
by this point i’ve already pressed the mute button (i can still hear him but he can’t hear me), and i’m staring blankly at my screen. Then the most amazing thing happens. I hear the guy’s doorbell go, and some scuffling, shortly followed by…
WD: HELLO? HELLO? ARE YOU THERE?
M: Yes sir, my apologies, i am still trying to reach the…
WD: HE IS HERE!
M: Who is there?
WD: THE DRIVER, THE PACKAGE!
M: Okay sir, are you actually sure your son has sent you Marijuana?
WD: No but he said…
M: Alright, ask the driver to hold on for a moment, and open the package whilst he is with you.
the phone goes quiet for a moment, it sounds like he’s pocketed his phone whilst he’s still on the line, followed by some inaudible chatter and the closing of a door
M: Hello? Sir? Are you still there?
WD: HE SENT ME GREEN F—-ING TEA. THAT LITTLE —-. I’M SO SORRY.
M: [trying not to laugh] No problem sir, enjoy your brew!
WD ends the call, clearly embarrassed, i’m almost speechless, and turn to my manager – only to find he’s crying into his keyboard