Going Postal …

Day 243

I miss my old post office. Old – not as in antiquated but as in former. 

When I walked in I was like Norm on Cheers … everybody knew my name.

They knew me. I knew them. We had inside jokes. It was pleasant … as pleasant as a trip to the post office could be. I mean, really, it was.

And it was close to home. If I wanted to hop, skip or jump – I could have done that and been there. Well, almost … but you get the idea.

They were helpful. If I needed boxes … and I ALWAYS needed boxes … they had cartons of the flat rates for me. If I had prepaid boxes ready to go – either they helped me unload my car or they had me pull around to the “restricted area” and unload on the dock; or they’d help me unload on the dock. They were great.

I got to “know” them … as well as you know people in such a capacity. We exchanged stories about our kids … our dogs … our parents … our work. It was our own version of water cooler conversation … sans the water cooler. It was coffee break chit chat … without the coffee.

But it was always nice and they were always helpful and it made my work easier. And we even exchanged emails so every once in a while I’d get a funny joke from one of them or I’d send along a funny one back to them (usually postal related).

It was nice.

The post office here in town is not too far away, though I cannot hop, skip or jump there. The parking is not convenient … the lot is off to the side of the building and it’s quite the walk with the packages I’m usually carrying. The outside door and the inside door both open OUT … so that when you have an armload of packages you have to shift everything to one side or put them down to open the door. VERY poor design. I keep meaning to ask them about those doors. I notice these things because I have been there 3 or 4 times every week for the last few months.

You’d think they’d remember me. But nope. I’m a new face every time I’m there.

The interior of the post office is, at best, dismal. Ugly painted walls, fluorescent lights overhead, everyone in pale blue shirts and looking like death warmed over (from pale blue shirts under that lighting!) … actually, they all kind of look like Death’s been knocking on the door for a few weeks.

I thought yesterday that the energy of the four clerks at the front windows wasn’t even enough to light a pocket flashlight. They all looked half asleep or ready to go … well, for a lack of a better or less appropriate word … postal!

In any case on my last visit I got a lecture for needing some boxes. I was told to go to the website and order. I know how to do that. I DO do that. I just needed some boxes at that moment. I was going to take them home, fill them and bring them back and send them out. I needed boxes … not a lecture. And a smile wouldn’t have been so bad either.

Maybe they all just hate their jobs. Maybe they are all just bored to death. I don’t know. Maybe I just need to bring them some cookies. Maybe that would brighten their day.

At least maybe they’d remember me.