So today I had the courage to go to the USPS. I made sure my packages were sealed, addressed and so on, before I got there. But did that matter? NOOOOOOOOOO! You want to know why? Because the BLEEP! at the counter was kicking everyone out of line to exert her power over us Underlings who, God Forbid, want to MAIL something.
“YOU!” She pointed. “You can’t use tape on a priority mail package.”
“YOU!” She pointed at someone else. “You can’t address the box on that side.”
“YOU!” She pointed to another victim. “You have to show your ID for a $2.50 purchase on your credit card.”
“YOU!” She pointed at me. “You can’t just black out the UPS label on your box. You have to take the whole label off.”
This took me all of two seconds to comply, and it cost me 15 more minutes in line. But I’d done this billions of times, I thought. You take the Amazon box and run a marker through the UPS label. So big deal.
BUT NOT TODAY. Not with the Grinch.
After I complied with US Postal Regulation #4.1, 5.7 and 188.8.131.52, I got my package mailed for $8.55 for a tiny box to California. RIP OFF!
I walked out into the bitter Chicago cold, clutching the collar of my fleece, validated parking ticket in hand, and breathed a HUGE sigh of relief that I was DONE.
Until I got to the Parking attendant. “That’ll be five-fifty.”
“Excuse me? I have a validated ticket.”
“But you were there for 40 minutes m’am. You’re over by ten.”
Watch out for cliche – BUT “STEAM DID COME OUT OF MY EARS”.
And to counteract my anger, I had to spend another $4.85 at Starbucks for a Venti Nonfat Peppermint Mocha to calm my nerves.
And THIS is why I HATE THE POST OFFICE. The Grinch. He/She is there. Right now. STAY AWAY.