You've Got (No) Mail

Whenever we travel, we stop the mail. It's easy to do online, even for someone as technologically challenged as I. It is basically point and click and the only information you need is your address. They even give you a handy dandy little pull down calendar to help you select the stop and start dates. Only someone who could not find their head with both hands and a flashlight could screw it up.

Apparently, our post office has just such a person working there.

Since Monday was the holiday, we put the stop date for Tuesday.

The mail was delivered Tuesday. My sister-in-law took it in for us.

The mail was delivered Wednesday. Our neighbor took it in for us.

So much for selecting a stop date.

Since we were not arriving home until late Friday night, we chose Saturday as the start-up date and for all accumulated mail (all two days worth --gee, get the forklift) to be delivered.

Saturday came, but no mail.

Monday came. Still no mail.

So much for the start-up date.

Tuesday morning, I went to the post office.

There were two people behind the desk helping customers and only one person in line. Jackpot!!! Oh lucky day!!! This would not suck more than a few minutes out of my life:)

Twenty minutes later, the two people behind the desk were still helping the same two customers and now there were about fifteen people in line.

Near as I can figure, one of the people was sending a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle to Romania, piece by piece, and the other person was engaging the clerk in an in-depth discussion on registered mail vs. standard mail vs. certified mail, etc.

Finally, after ten more minutes of listening to the mind-numbing, excruciatingly tedious transactions taking place, one of the clerks finished and beckoned to the guy in front of me.

He was not happy. None of us were happy. A low murmur of discontent began to travel down the line which had now swelled to about twenty people.

"Next disgruntled customer," barked the other clerk.

Huh? Oh, he meant me. Give the man a gold star in reading body language.

Sliding my license across the desk, I explained that I wanted to pick up my mail which was supposed to have been delivered two days earlier.

"Hmmph. 'Supposed to' is the key word there," he grumbled, sliding off his stool. "Oh, did that sound sarcastic?" he asked sarcastically, as he disappeared into the back room.

Wow. And he thought I was disgruntled.

Meanwhile, the first guy called up the next customer and proceeded to lecture the person and the room at large about the proper etiquette involved in shipping a package.

Okay, did nobody here have their Wheaties this morning? At this point, we all began to shift nervously and mentally practice diving for safety under the nearest table.

My guy stomped back, sans license, and pointed to an unmanned station farther down the counter. "We don't have your mail. Big surprise. Wait there and someone will be out to help you."

No problem. I was planning on getting as far away from you as possible anyway.

"Sir. Sir," he snapped loudly, catching sight of an elderly man who had just entered and gotten into the still increasing line, "come up and go to that window (same one as me). You don't have to wait in line since you were already here. Next! Let's go!"

Casting apologetic glances at the two dozen people ahead of him, the man complied. He needn't have worried though. Everyone was too scared to complain what with visions of being on the six o'clock news swimming around in their heads. They all stood there, wide-eyed, watching the clerks as though they were lions that had escaped from the zoo just before feeding time.

"What're you here for?" the elderly man whispered to me out of the side of his mouth.

"I'm trying to pick up accumulated mail," I whispered right back.

"Good luck," he snorted under his breath. "I wouldn't hold out much hope if I were you."

Our conversation was interrupted by a woman who came bustling out with my license and a garbled explanation about how my mail was not there, but at "the other office" and she would call and make sure delivery started immediately, but just in case, here was a number I could call to try and get my mail.

While I wavered between disbelief and frustration, one of the other clerks began haranguing some poor woman at top volume about how he had to ask certain questions about her package and to please let him do his job.

That decided me.....I didn't need my mail that badly. It was probably just a lot of junk mail anyway.

I practically ran for the nearest exit. Next time we go away, I'm going to have a mail slot installed in the front door so that I don't ever have to go to the post office again.