ROGUE MAIL

Has anyone else noticed how local addresses are beginning to resemble complicated mathematical formulae these days?

You practically need a degree to work out where someone lives. When did 1f2b² 6/3 ever resemble an actual location? With new properties and additions to properties cropping up all the time (Meuse’s, Street North, Lane East, extensions on extensions on top of garages that are actually houses that were once Meuses) it’s becoming difficult enough for locals to find their way around let alone for visitors and new posties.

Part of the problem is that the barely understood address system(s) here is (are) not understood at all beyond Edinburgh. Quite often I miss out on mail because friends are unable to put a / between numbers. They obviously think it’s a typo. Setting up a new account with any company can become tricky because they have the property registered completely differently. There’s no consistency. It could be 1f1 15 Spurtle Road or it could be 15/1 Spurtle Road; or if you really want to, you could have it as Flat 1, 15 Spurtle Road. Royal Mail list it one way and the Council another. And whatever happened to good old fashioned odds and evens?

This is not the only mail problem I face on a regular basis. Junk mail doesn’t seem to bother me as much as mail addressed to previous tenants. Why can’t people change their addresses or redirect their mail when they move out? I’m sick of returning letters, but keep doing so in the hope that they’ll get the hint … they never do.

I’ve even started adding encouraging notes to the senders. “He’s still not here but keep trying.” “Maybe try contacting the customer by phone to see why they’re not paying their bills?" “Weather’s lovely here, hope you can come and visit soon.”

It doesn’t help when the postman drops mail meant for somewhere else. Recently I decided to take matters into my own hands and personally take round a wrongly delivered letter. This was going to be an exciting adventure, a selfless good deed that could possibly spur others to do the same. I tracked down the street which was just round the corner, but when I reached the building I found that the doorbells were labelled with names and not numbers. Names? Where had all those complicated equations suddenly gone just as I was getting the hang of them?

After some pestering I was eventually allowed into the building and worked out which flat I was after by counting the floors and the doors. Complex stuff. As I reached my destination I knocked, the anticipation killing me. When the door opened, I announced ‘Letter for Mr MacDonald’. I had finally done it. Was delivering letters going to be my new calling?

The person at the door looked down at the letter and said, “Sorry, he doesn’t live here anymore. He died three years ago’.

The plot thickens and the letters keep piling up somewhere/everywhere/nowhere (delete as appropriate).  For GT.

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@theSpurtle gets even more complicated when a flat in your building is now part of a Starbucks! Sometimes we're 5/3, sometimes 5/4...