One Happy Binman


My bins are collected in Peckham on a Wednesday. While this isn’t a detail that I’d have thought that I needed to pass on, it’s one worth bearing in mind if you are sending me parcels.

Like many freelancers, I work from home about half of the year. So my home address is listed as my main business address.

Because my “office” consists of just me and a computer, and I sadly don’t have a concierge, when I’m not there, there is no one to take in parcels.

Thankfully, our long-suffering postman now knows which of my neighbours also work from home and will take in parcels for me. Being neighbourly, they’ll usually message me to tell me that they’ve taken in another huge box/weirdly shaped parcel – and jokingly, they’ll usually add that it is sitting in their hallway, blocking up the entrance yet again.

Couriers, though, don’t want to mess about, walking up and down my road, finding which of my nice neighbours are at home to take a parcel. So, most of them leave the parcel downstairs by my bin. When they don’t leave a note, I have no idea the parcel is there. And on Wednesday morning, the bin men come – and take it away.

The binmen in most areas would complain, I suspect, because these parcels are not in my green wheelie bin – or in a black plastic bag. But my binmen don’t seem to mind. Perhaps they rather enjoy opening them, and scoffing the contents, if the packages are food-related, or giving them to their missus, if they’re girlie.

If you’ve sent me a parcel, and haven’t told me it’s coming, and you’re using cheap couriers who don’t insist on a signature or don’t guarantee that they will put a delivery note through the door, please don’t think I am rude if I don’t thank you for the delivery.

I simply haven’t got it. My binmen have.