The Intergalactic Delivery & Ideological Overnight Transport Service.
Well folks, for those of you who take inordinate delight in
justice, I have a true tale to tell you. Happened to a friend of a
friend. The names have been changed to protect the guilty, the
innocent, and all others. This is the story of the Intergalactic
Delivery & Ideological Overnight Transport Service–I.D.I.O.T.S.
for short. And our hero…aw heck folks …let’s call him Charlie.
Charlie is in the Diamond and Jewelry business. He’s an honest
man, and because he’s honest, he trusted the I.D.I.O.T.S. He had
seen their vans all over the streets, he had seen their uniformed
men scurrying about like busy little bees, rushing to make their
deliveries on time. So… when it was time for Charlie to ship some
goods–worth $12,000.00–to a new account…who did he choose?
Why…he chose the I.D.I.O.T.S. of course.
Charlie packed his package carefully. Followed all the
instructions, he did. No unmounted goods. No loose rings floating
around the box. He used security tape, much as I do. And he even
called his new account the day of shipment. Have to send you the
stuff C.O.D. and Cash, said Charlie. Till we get to know each
other. I think Charlie was a little concerned. In this day and
age…it’s easy to understand.
When Charlie filled in the C.O.D. form, he specified C.O.D./CASH.
In other words, no checks for Charlie, Charlie. And off went the
package. And Charlie went to bed that night, secure in the
knowledge that he had placed himself in the able hands of the
Alas, the I.D.I.O.T.S. delivery man did not bother to read the
instructions, and he delivered the package, and accepted a check.
Uh-oh, some of you are saying. Uh-oh, comes a rejoining chorus.
Yup. You got it folks. The checkareenio bounced. I’ll tell you
this. Charlie was a tad upset with the I.D.I.O.T.S. You’re a bunch
of idiots, he told the I.D.I.O.T.S. It said cash. Gimme my money.
Nay nay, said the I.D.I.O.T.S. We only collect money, we don’t
give any back. Now, for you literals, maybe the interchange wasn’t
exactly like that. But the essence is there. And Charlie was not a
man without resources. He got hold of his attorney and said, I
wanna sue. And sue he did. He won a judgement, in fact. And a
Marshall was sent out.
Ah…even as I write this…the cockles of me heart are warmed.
(By the way, anyone out there know what cockles are?) The Marshall
went up the elevator with a couple of his bigger guys, and entered
the offices of the I.D.I.O.T.S. Charlie wants his money, said the
Marshall. Charlie should wake up and smell the coffee, said the
Well, right off the bat, the Marshall didn’t like the
I.D.I.O.T.S.'s representative. Izzat so, said the Marshall. And he
pointed to the cash registers, which were strewn about in abundance
in the I.D.I.O.T.S.'s lavish quarters. Confiscate, those said the
Marshall. All of them. And then go outside and commandeer the first
I.D.I.O.T.S. truck you see. We’ll sell this stuff at auction to the
first bidder, and we’ll keep on confiscating as many trucks as are
required to make up the twelve grand the I.D.I.O.T.S. owe Charlie.
Oh…the office was in an uproar. How could they do this? How
could you do this. Cease. Cease, I say, shrieked the
representative. But the Marshall was unruffled. He and his men
rolled up their sleeves. Wait wait, said the I.D.I.O.T.S. man. I’ll
give you a check. Now! said the Marshall. Okay…now…said the
I.D.I.O.T.S. man. And Charlie got his money.
The moral of this story…no matter how big a firm is…it doesn’t
mean you can’t beat them just because they’re I.D.I.O.T.S.
And there ya have it.
That’s it for this week folks.
Catch you all next week.
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