You know those codes you receive when it’s time to pick up your parcel? They go something like “8-8-8888”. Wanna say to them, “Bye bye”, or, “88”? Well, The Nanjinger has a way to beat the system, one which can render those deplorable digits largely a thing of the past.
These days, on account of COVID, it’s largely impossible to enter your local “kuaidi” (express courier) shack to pick up your package yourself. Most pick-up/drop-off points are now tapered off, for fear that we will infect everyone collecting our parcel from Shanghai (we wish).
But let’s back track a little. Not so long ago, people would crowd around said shack, calling out the reference number for the location of their package and expecting kuaidi staff to run around after them like their nannies. The Nanjinger preferred scouring the shelves itself and sensed the staff appreciated the effort that lightened their load.
But now, the M.O. goes like this. Line up (especially at weekends when the queue is reminiscent of a COVID test) and get ready with that number which is the only thing differentiating your package from that of everyone else, who also happen to be surnamed Wang, Li, Sun, Chen or Zhang. When it’s your turn, read out your number, whereupon kuaidi will go ferret out your parcel.
The trick is to differentiate yourself in the extreme. Simply head over to your online shopping platform of choice and change your delivery name to something nonsensical which will stand out like a sore thumb to your kuaidi staff.
Ours is an odd combination of the name of a superhero and that of a famous doll. Most important is that it need be something long (seven or eight characters) and the absolute antithesis of Wang, Sun at al.
Take Saturday for example. When this correspondent went to get his kuaidi, by the time he looked up from his phone with the code, friendly kuaidi girl was already standing in the doorway with his parcel. Job done.
Choose your new name wisely and with a bit of creativity. After a few sarcy comments along the lines of, “Suits you, actually”, or “What kind of a name do you call that?”, you’ll soon have a reputation as the XXXXXXX guy or gal. What was an irksome “assume the position” kind of manoeuvre will soon be putting a smile on everyone’s faces.
In this way, whenever a package turns up in the future addressed to “Wonder Woman Barbie” or “Predator vs. Terminator”, the friendly kuaidi folk will not be able to help but remember exactly where they put it on their shelves.
Bit shhh. Keep the secret to yourself (and absolutely do not share this article). If we all do it…
