Mark Gilbert: My experiences going incognito as a white van man
The Postie Notes by Mark Gilbert
I’ve had a few “different” experiences this week, which were all connected to the fact that I had a hire van instead of my usual postie red van.
I was turned into a white van man because when I returned from a week of hard graft in the garden at Chez Gilbert, on my week off, my usual red van was in the garage in Lairg, apparently due to a fuel leak.
For those in the know, my coming back to a replacement van is quite usual after a week off. In my absence, my vans either get damaged, break down, or if they are still here, have bits missing!
Anyway, I now have a white Transit van that only has a side door on the passenger side, which makes it hard to access because of the narrow single-track roads I drive, and no one knows it’s me, which made for an interesting “encounter” - more of which later.
I’ve always said that if we are in a red van, most other drivers will give us the opportunity to nip into drives, queuing traffic, or overtake promptly on the single tracks, because they know we’re working, but in a white van we could be any driver, so just blending in makes us invisible.
I’ve had several comments from local folk when they’ve realised it’s me: “Ah, so you’re incognito today”, “I didn’t realise it was yourself” and “You’ve snook in with your camouflage”.
The van has “Car Hire Hebrides” emblazoned on it, and I’ve joked that it’s a bit of a trek having to go to the Hebrides every morning to pick it up before I start work, and because we now start over an hour later, my story almost fits.
There have been a few surprises though. We have an unwritten rule up here (mainly because when the tourists go, there aren’t that many of us) that we give a cheery wave as we pass vehicles we recognise as belonging to locals (Highland common courtesy), as we know most folk by their cars.
This is a challenge for a while when someone gets a new vehicle, and I am still struggleing to recognise Pauline from Clashaidy in her “new” car, which she’s had for about six months now.
So, I encountered two local cars at different times, and flashed my lights to let them through.
These were folk I see almost daily, but instead of acknowledging my courtesy, they didn’t give the cheery wave, nor did they make eye contact. I was shocked, and will think of them differently in future. I had turned into an invisible white van man!
The next experience is almost laughable and quite sad at the same time. I have a house on my delivery round where the man of the house has been avoiding me for around 130 delivery days, over a trivial matter outside of work.
He used to come out and speak to me most days, but since November last year, his wife collects the post from me when I call.
I have noticed that when he is gardening, he looks to see if I am aiming for his house, and promptly disappears.
But things went wrong for him the other day, when the white van man turned out to be myself, and he had a shock when I got out of the van.
I had planned to confront him about avoiding me, when the opportunity arose, but as he couldn’t even look me in the eye, I decided to maintain the higher moral ground, greet him, give him his parcel and election leaflets, and just leave.
Oh dear, that little red van has a lot to answer for!
Mark Gilbert is a postman at Bettyhill.
