Going Postal

I had to go to the post office today to pick up all the mail that wasn't delivered while we were at the lake. We usually don't stop the mail, but this time we did. Big mistake. They stopped it on the right date, but they didn't resume delivery when we got back. No big deal, I thought... I gave the mailman an extra day, figuring he would bring everything the following day. Wrong again. One more day, and still no mail. The next day was Saturday, and our post office doesn't have counter service on Saturdays, so I had to wait till today.

We were up before dawn this morning, so I was at the post office when they opened at 7:30. I thought there wouldn't be very many people on line at that hour. Wrong once again. Not only was there a long line, but there was just one clerk behind the desk. Because of postal cutbacks, they're allowed to schedule just one clerk for the first two hours of counter service. Well, whose idea was that? A lot of people were dressed up for work on that line, planning to run into the post office before heading on to their jobs.

One clerk... seven people on line ahead of me, and at least fifteen people behind me. We could all see that the clerk was getting flustered, and everyone realized she couldn't go any faster. One clerk, one computer, and all of us.

The person in front of me was there picking up mail as well, and when she got to the counter to give the clerk her driver's license for identification, the clerk asked if anyone else on the line was picking up mail. There were seven of us.... we were all happy to walk to the counter and hand in our driver's licenses, hoping to just get our mail and be on our way.

Several minutes later, the clerk came out with bundles of mail. She handed back the driver's licenses and the mail bundles to the six other people, then she looked at me and said "Well honey, where's y'all's mail?" I resisted the urge to tell her that she would know the answer to that question better than me. Off she went to the back room, looking for my mail and my driver's license. I could hear the people on line sighing and shuffling their feet.

Before the clerk came back, one of the ladies who had gotten her mail and left the post office walked back into the door carrying a large bundle of mail. I knew that woman from seeing her at the local yard sales, and she walked straight over to me and gave me my driver's license and my bundle of mail, telling me that the clerk had put my mail underneath hers and forgot about it. Good thing she looked through her mail in her car, or she would've gone home with it all-- both hers and mine.

The clerk came out at that point, telling me that she just had no idea where my mail could be. I told her what happened with the other lady's mail, and I asked to speak to a supervisor. The clerk behind the desk knows me, and she also knows that I know about the recent cutbacks. She went in the back to call a supervisor to the desk, then started taking care of the rest of the people on the line.

And there I stood, waiting, and waiting... for seventeen minutes (according to one of the people on the line). Finally, a smiling supervisor came out to "make nice" and listen to my two-cents worth about the cutbacks and the ridiculous scheduling of just one clerk behind the desk. I put on my own happy-supervisor face, and I kept my voice calm and low, and I just kept smiling and smiling as I told her how flustered one clerk can get when faced with so many people on the line, and that's when mistakes are bound to happen, and it isn't the clerk's fault, but the responsibility of the Powers That Be to create an atmosphere where procedures can be carried out properly. And all the while, I just kept my best Crest-white smile aimed at that supervisor.

Of course I know that nothing will change there... they keep cutting back on staff, they keep changing mail carriers on the routes, and the service just keeps getting worse. We used to get our mail delivered by noon-time. Now we're lucky if the mail gets in the box before Oprah comes on in the late afternoon. Our long-time mailman has been replaced with a succession of mail carriers who aren't here long enough to get to know the names and house numbers of the people on this route. I used to give cakes and cookies from our parties to our "old" mailman. I haven't done that since he left.... in a week's time, we can have three different mail carriers here.


The boat is in the driveway..... my husband picked it up this morning. The seller spent a few hours with him, going over every little thing from back to front, side to side. Bow to stern? Whatever, as Miss C says. Speaking of Miss C.... I picked her up after school this afternoon and brought her into the house through the front door instead of the back so she wouldn't see the boat at the end of the driveway. Into the front door we went... and out the back door she walked with my husband... and she positively squealed and screamed when he surprised her with the boat. Her feet probably haven't touched the floor yet.

My husband showed her everything on the boat, and I'm sure he'll be teaching her how to use it when she comes up to the lake. (Only with a life-vest, I told her.... never without a life-vest.) Before C left here this afternoon, she signed our guest book to make the boat-buying day "official." She signed her name, then wrote in big letters: "WE GOT A BOAT!" She also drew a little picture of a sailboat with two stick figures in it... a tall one for my husband, a shorter one for herself. She literally pranced and skipped from one end of this house to the other, then she danced and bounced from my car to her front door when I brought her home. Seeing C's reaction to the boat just made the silliness of the post office disappear into the universe.