Because Evidently You Can’t Beat the Hours
I think I finally know what I’m going to be when I grow up. Well, what I’m going to do, anyway. I’m going to go to work for the government. The postal service, to be exact.
I mean, for what other institution can you work from 9:00 to 4:30 and get two hours for lunch?
Let me just tell you a bit about my Tuesday. I’ve been hocking stuff on ebay. It feels so good to purge my closets!! I highly recommend it. So anyway. When I sell my merchandise, I like to get it in the mail as soon as I receive payment. Cause nothing’s gonna come between me and my 100% positive feedback, baby!
So on Tuesday, I had on the front seat of my car approximately five priority mail bags containing children’s shoes in assorted sizes. That’s about $45 worth of ebay sales. Or a new fall sweater for moi!
After running various and sundry errands and watching my daughter’s Halloween parade at school, I loaded both girls into the minivan and headed over to the post office to send my shoes off to their respective new homes.
I parked, released both girls from their car seats, finagled five slippery bags of shoes out of the front seat, threw my handbag over my shoulder, and started towards the post office. A couple of dropped bags and a skinned knee later (my daughter’s, not mine), I entered the post office only to find the door to the service desk closed and locked. Upon further investigation, I noticed that the lights were off and everything was quiet.
So I glanced at the posted hours of operation and noted that the post office is closed from 12:00 noon to 2:00 PM. That’s two hours, people. What business in any industrialized country in the free world shuts down for two hours in the middle of the day? Well, the U.S. government, evidently.
With a sigh of frustration, and perhaps a few muttered expletives, but I’m not admitting to that, I hauled everyone and my bags back to the car, and we made our way home. As I drove, I heard my four-year-old daughter in the backseat muttering "unbelievable" under her breath. At least that’s the worst that she took from the experience.
Fast forward to later in the afternoon. Baby R woke up from her nap and my son was at a friend’s house, so I loaded R and C into the car and headed back to the post office. This time I went to a different post office, a bigger one, in hopes that it had more reasonable hours. I arrived at precisely 4:37 PM.
After I managed to open the front door with the five slippery postal bags in my arms and my two little girls in tow, I was relieved to see the lights on and the door unlocked. Just as I pushed inside the door, the lights flipped off and a postal worker poked her head out of the back office.
"I’m sorry. We closed at 4:30. I was just a little late locking up."
You’ve GOT to be kidding me. I think I actually said that.
So there I stood, my arms laden down with packages to mail and two little girls at my side. Do you think she might have taken pity on me and offered to take my mail? Ha! Of course not.
Now I ask you this. If that was a retail establishment, and it was seven minutes past closing, and I had my arms full of merchandise to purchase, do you think they would have turned me away? Well, for one thing, they wouldn’t be closing for the day at 4:30.
So yeah. Seems to me the post office workers have it made. I wonder if they’re hiring.