Bad Kiwi

Yesterday, I was tempted to start this post with a curse, something like “Good kiwis? Bullshit!” OR “Cilaka punya orang putih!” OR “Thieves should rot in hell” OR “Orang putih buduh” OR…well, you get my drift. I started typing my curses on the spreadsheet and midway, I got stuck. I just couldn’t continue. I was SO mad that the only words I could think of were curses and more curses. So I decided to sleep it off, cool down and clear my head a little. That was yesterday.

Now that I’m more ‘sober’, I can attempt to write this post more sensibly. Okay, where should I start? Right. This post is about a parcel. A very special parcel that could’ve changed my life. Well, maybe not that dramatic but a very important parcel nonetheless. You see, in an effort to combat my pigmentation, I had asked my good friend Zee to help me get some beauty products from Australia which I can’t get in NZ. Coincidentally, Guess was having a major sale at that time so I asked Zee to get me new pair of jeans, which according to her was to-die-for. So, in this parcel were my pigmentation cream, vitamin-C cream and my drop-dead gorgeous jeans. Apart from those items, Zee also threw in some gifts for me and Alva as well as a few CDs for hubby.

The parcel was sent on August 4th and was expected to arrive on my doorstep in 4-10 days. 18 days went by, and still no sign of my parcel. I told Zee about the delay and she too found it bizarre. She however assured me that there was nothing to worry about since it was registered. At the same time, Zee took the trouble to check the details written on the receipt including my address and phone number. It was then that I discovered Zee had sent the parcel to my old address! I froze and was going like “Oh NO! No wonder lah..” and Zee was going “Alamak liz…matilah” We both panic for a moment there. After a few more OMGs and 30 minutes on Skype, we finally calmed down. I knew the new tenants of my old house so it wouldn’t be a problem to get the parcel..or so I thought.

The next day, I went to Kaiapoi to ask the new tenant about my parcel. The door was opened, so I walked myself in….  

23 August 2009 – 11.00 a.m.

Me: Hi, good morning….

New tenant: Hi..Yeah?

Me: Did someone send a parcel here? My friend got my old address and she mistakenly sent it here.

New tenant: No, Shaking his head). Just mails…but we put them back in the mail box.

Me:(Confused) Really? It’s a registered parcel. No one came with a package over the last few weeks?

New tenant: No…(Both husband and wife shaking their heads).

New tenant: We’re waiting for a parcel ourselves. (wife)

Me: Aha…Well, if you do get a parcel, can you contact me? (I had already given them my number a few months ago)

New tenant: Yeah sure..what’s your number? Me: It’s XXXXXXXXXXX.

New tenant: Right…ok…

Me: Thanks. I went back, confused.

Not satisfied, I called Zee to get the reference number for the courier and called NZ Post to track it down. I spoke to the customer service consultant and gave her the number. Imagine my surprise when she told me that the parcel was delivered to the Kaiapoi address and was signed for by a Dave New Tenant. Can you believe that??? He signed the receipt of delivery under that name! It’s not even a real name. I just couldn’t believe he was that stupid. But then again, I wasn’t sure Dave was his real name. All I wanted to do was kill this Dave. I was angry and I told hubby all about this. The next day, we decided to pay Dave another visit. I rehearsed my lines in the car, thinking of ways to persuade him to return my stuff. I thought about those interrogation scenes in CSI and told myself “I got this”. We dropped the kids at Es’ place (in case things get dirty) and zoomed to see Dave. Hubby parked the car by the roadside and we both got out of the car, ready for action. Like Mulder and Scully, we barged into the property FBI style (minus the guns).  

24 August 2009 – 3.00 p.m.

Me: Can I speak to Dave?

Dave Idiot: Yes, that’s me.

Me: You’re Dave? I think you know why I’m here (angry tone)

Dave Idiot: No, I seriously don’t know (fake confused look)

Me: I know my parcel was sent to this address. I called NZ Post to track it down and they told me that it was delivered on the 10 of August.

Dave Idiot: I told you yesterday, I don’t have your stuff. I told you right? If I got it, I’d call you (with his eyes terkebil-kebil/ palak palak).

Me: I got the proof here stating that on the 10 of August SOMEONE from THIS house accepted the parcel and signed for it. It’s all in here. (Too angry sampai bergagar)

The wife: Well, we didn’t take your stuff. It wasn’t us

Hubby: If not you, then who?

Dave Idiot: I can swear to you I didn’t take your stuff. How stupid am I to tell you I didn’t take it if I had signed my name? No way man (Looking at the receipt)No way. I can swear to you.(with hand gestures)

Me: So, who’s responsible for this? The fact is, someone signed and took my stuff! If you didn’t do it, who did? (“Bullshit! You punk!” was on the tip of my tongue, but I restrained myself)

The wife: What was in it? Me: A lot of things. They're all brand new. (I read the list of items).

Dave Idiot: Well, they are no use to us. No offence here, but your clothes won’t fit my wife (smiling weakly, pointing to the wife who looks like a hippo)

The wife: Yeah.I don’t have small girls. You can go to the police if you want,but we didn’t take your stuff (appearing to be indifferent)

Me: You should understand why I think you took them. Your name is David, and this(holding receipt) is signed by DAVE NEW TENANT! You’re the new tenant. It was signed on a Monday morning. Who’s at home on Monday mornings??? (still bergagar-MAD)

Dave Idiot: Nobody. We’d be sending the kids to school (Stupid answer).

Hubby: Then who signed?

Dave Idiot: I don’t know…

The wife: Well, there’s a bunch of us staying here..We have people coming and going all the time…(so annoying)

Dave Idiot: Yeah..I’m sorry but I can’t help you right now

Me: Well, someone from this house signed for it. Someone needs to be responsible for this.

Dave Idiot: I didn’t take it man. NO WAY! (Shaking his head)

Hubby: Then we don’t have a choice…

Me: I just want my parcel…I don’t want to make this big. I will have to go to the authorities if no one wants to be responsible…

Dave Idiot: I’m sorry but I can’t help you now…I'll ask my friends

Me: Alright. Can you call me back by tonight and tell me who’s responsible so I can talk to the authorities? If you don’t call me, it’s your name on the paper.

Dave Idiot: Sure..sure…I’ll call you…

Me and Hubby: Thank you (So polite lagi)

We got to the car and I felt sooooooooo depressed, thinking about the lost of my parcel… Thinking about my jeans, those beauty products…Arggghhh…I got angrier. Not satisfied, we went to Kaiapoi Police station and consulted a police officer. We told her all about the parcel story, from A-Z and showed her the receipt for proof of delivery. She took our statements and even asked for Dave’s description. I told her I had threatened Dave about going to the police if he didn’t call. She smiled and said “Well Alice, if Dave calls you, I want you to inform me okay? You can reach me at this number” giving me her name card. That night, I waited by the phone and Dave did not call me. I tried calling him, but it led to his voicemail. It was nerve-wrecking.

SOOO…the next day, I went to see Dave and punched him in the groin. His wife tried to stop me, but I kicked her fat ass so hard, she fell on the floor. KIDDING. I’m not that crazy.

SOOOOO, the next day, I called the officer (Helen) to tell her that Dave lied about wanting to call me. I also told her that Dave couldn’t be reached on his cell phone. Helen said “Alright Alice, leave it to us now. You shouldn’t call him anymore. I’ll talk to the sergeant”.  

26 August 2009-2.00 p.m.

Constable: Hello..May I speak to Alice Wong?

Me: Yes, speaking.

Constable: Alice, I’m Constable X from Kaiapoi Police station. You’ve lodged a report about your lost package yesterday and I’ve spoken to David Gordon. He has admitted taking the package.

Me: He admitted???!! He told me he didn’t know about it! (Shocked and bewildered)

Constable: Yes…he denied it at first..but we put pressure on him and he finally admitted taking the package.

Me: Oooooh….(still so tekejut)

Constable: He said he took the clothes to the clothing bin. Alice? Are you with me?

Me: Yes…Why did he do that? How bout my jeans? His wife can’t fit into them..She’s fat.

Constable: Yeah. I reckon he’d sold them. He’s now charged with theft and will have to appear in court next month. Okay?

Me: Oh..Okay (Felt a jolt of pleasure hearing this). So, will I get my money back? I had to pay for those items, I mean, I paid my friend for those stuff.

Constable: Yes, he’ll be charged and will be ordered to pay for those items.(I can’t recall everything he said, just the gist of it)

Me:Okay..Is there anything I should do from this end?

Constable: No,no…Just wait for our call. Alice, you are NOT going near the property okay. You are not going to 6#, Whitefield St, Kaiapoi. Do you understand me? Me: Yes…yes..Thank you Constable: Goodbye.

Me: Goodbye. I hung up.

For a moment, I just sat there in disbelief, thinking “how can someone be so stupid?” I mean, the guy has got a wife and three kids. He should know what’s right, right? NO. He's obviously an idiot, buduh, mulau, sot and palui (for those who don't understand, they all mean the same). He is now charged with theft for taking my stuff and will have a criminal record, forever and ever. Serves him right! Before this incident, I used to have a sense of security and trust in the community. I used to think that people here are good and honest and that only boy racers create problem. Well, I was wrong. Everyone out there has a potential to be bad, even Kiwis who 'appear' civilized and kind. We can never be too careful when it comes to safety and we should always remember to be cautious. This is one expensive lesson I've learnt this week. I'm not sure whether David Gordon has learnt his lesson but I know he'll have many sleepless nights, thinking about his trial. That thought brings a smile to my face whenever I think about my lost jeans. Now I can sleep happily.