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What You’re Missing: “...the people in our building have accepted that if you live here, you just can’t get deliveries. It’s just bad luck - an inconvenience that we must simply put up with. The fucking Twilight Zone…”
Our flat is in a delivery dead-zone. It’s completely impossible for anyone to find, ever. Not because it's in the middle of nowhere, or up a thousand flights of stairs - but simply because it sits behind the car park of a Polish supermarket. Delivery people claim to have knocked, but we’ve figured out that they are knocking on a mysterious looking black door on the highstreet that I had always assumed was the locked entrance of a condemned building. I recently saw some people coming out of it, though - and they didn’t look happy. I hoped it wasn’t because they were fed up with receiving unsolicited deliveries from me. I’ll never introduce myself.
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