Okay, Listen Here

Okay, Listen Here

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Snail Mail


The United States Postal Service, the “Post Office,” is a government corporation which handles millions of pieces of mail everyday. My mail is very important to me but, to some of their employees, it isn’t.

I live in the country, way off the road – far, far away from my mailbox, apparently in another dimension and galaxy. My previous mail carrier did not like to deliver packages or certified mail to my house. Evidently it was too far from the road. Guess she just didn’t like to take the time from her busy schedule. I would be home and decide to check my mail. So off I would go in the golf cart to get the mail. The moment I opened the mailbox there, sitting like a rattlesnake ready to strike, would be one of those yellow slips of paper which informed me that she had tried to deliver a package (usually one I needed immediately) and no one was home. I would stand there, reading the slip with incredulous disbelief. I WAS home – no one rang the doorbell! The slip also said I could pick the package up the NEXT day at the Post Office after three o’clock (it had been sent overnight – what was their hurry?)

I usually stood there, in the middle of the road, contemplating my options (which, if truth be told, were zilch). One option was always jumping into the golf cart and going in search of her. Thoughts of confronting the woman with the yellow slip of paper, waving it in her face and saying I was home would run through my head. The only thing that usually stopped me was the fact that the batteries in the golf cart probably wouldn’t make it that far. I do own a car; it’s just when you’re angry you don’t think clearly or at all. Frustrated and with no alternative, I would collect my mail and go home. The next day at the post office, I would complain bitterly, to no avail. Nothing ever changed.

One day, ta da, I came up with a PLAN. I would lay in wait for her! My insidious plan would go into effect if I were expecting a delivery that day. I would be outside, doing something obscure like looking for a four-leaf clover, surreptitiously watching. Then, when I saw her pull up to the neighbor’s mailbox, I would leap into the Gator (a faster mode of transportation) and meet her at the mailbox! It was brilliant and sly, utterly foolproof. Except…I was always the fool and she would thwart me time and time again. The woman would fly by, barely stopping long enough to throw the mail in the box and speed off. I would make it to the mailbox just as a cloud of dust billowed across the road. Yes, I ate her dust. There, sitting in the box would be that yellow piece of paper…Arghh!!!

It became a game that I usually lost. I tried all sorts of ways to catch her, including hiding in the bushes, but nothing worked. If any of you have seen “Funny Farm” with Chevy Chase you can understand what I was up against. In the movie, Chevy had a mailman who would throw the mail out and drive off, maniacally laughing. I saw myself as Chevy. This continued for a few years, I never gave up trying to catch her – I’m not made to quit. But evidently she was – she resigned one day. Probably took a better job like delivering Meals on Wheels – throwing food at the elderly. Much more satisfying than frustrating a middle-aged house frau.

My new mail lady is an improvement. She actually comes down the driveway and sits there blowing her horn for me to come get my package. Hey, it’s an improvement! I have since moved on – there are other battles to be waged, say with the cable company…

Have you every had an ongoing crusade with a company or government agency? How did that work for you? Did you win? Or are you like me - a loser?


Cheryl - the intrepid...

17 comments:

  1. Intrepid, this was hilarious! Not your predicament, but your description of it. Maybe you should have put on a Scream mask and jumped out at her when she pulled up. She just might have needed to use your bathroom after that. ;)

    We had a brick mailbox built with a newspaper slot under the mailbox. Where do you think we find our newspaper everyday? On the ground, next to the mailbox. I've complained but to no avail. Now our newspaper slot entertains birds...

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  2. Cheryl,
    This is a GREAT post. You had me laughing before breakfast, a very difficult thing to do!

    I am sorry about your ongoing battles with the U.S. postal service but appreciate the humor that you shared with us.

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  3. At the time I didn't think it was humorous. My husband, however, thought the entire battle was hilarious until he didn't get a package he was expecting. I solemnly handed him the Gator keys...

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  4. Ahh, Grasshopper, you are not alone. I, too, have been the unhappy victim of a mail carrier who sits in my driveway and honks the horn rather than walk the few feet to my side porch to leave the package. Sometimes I just remain indoors and let her do the walking. She also has this BAD habit of folding the mail. Nothing like a nice crease in your magazines! Sadly, that battle rages on...

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  5. Crystal, I cannot snatch the pebble from your hand...I'm too slow (ask the mail lady). My favorite is everyone on my road gets each other's mail. We have a mail swap meet in the pasture. My magazine's get creased too; kinda makes them hard to read.

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  6. I like the mail swap in the pasture. Fun times, huh? Sounds almost as fun as a covert attempt to get their mail back in their box unseen. Clearly, our respective rural mail carriers need a refresher course in proper public service practices.

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  7. This makes me feel fortunate that my mail deliverer rings my doorbell or walks my mail up to me when there is a package. I've had great experiences so far. You could always move into my neighborhood. ;)

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  8. Kathy, that is a tempting thought, but since we're due to break ground on the Garage Mahal and the master suite extension, we are soon to be well-rooted to our present spot. I guess we'll just have to take our mail carriers as they come.

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  9. Kathy - do they allow horses? Not if your neighborhood is smart!

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  10. I have some dear friends to live on a pecan orchard in Georgia. We call it the compound because three generations have homes there. I'm not good with distance but I wouldn't be afraid to say their driveway is a half mile long, so they have to drive to get their mail and newspapers. Well, someone started helping themselves to the newspapers. Grandpa needs to know the news; he needs to read about the Georgia Bulldogs.

    So he hid behind a tree with a gun full of rock salt. The culprit's mode of transport was a bicycle. It did not go well for him. He stopped stealing Grandpa's paper.

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  11. PS. I have no idea why I told that story. It has nothing whatsoever to do with Cheryl's blog. I guess a pantster can't be stopped.

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  12. I love it! Someone got their "B-hind" blistered! However, federal law prohibits harming postal employees...Doesn't stop them from going "postal" however...

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  13. But it was a fun story, Jean...

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  14. Now see, I would just find that infuriating. You have far more patience than I, Cheryl. Then again, though I was raised in the country, this is why I refuse to live anywhere that I can't throw a rock and hit a shopping center. I grew up in the country, but I'm definitely a suburbia girl. :)

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  15. Cheryl, you crack me up! I can just see you hiding behind those bushes! I'm lucky that a friend of mine is our mail carrier a few days a week. She makes up for the slack of the other one.
    In case you forgot you have connections with the cable company. Me! Hubby doesn't work your area, but he knows who does!!

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  16. Hey, I may call you sometime Sherry. I keep having this problem with the stations going out...no one believes me - really, it happens! Thanks for the offer I may take you up on it!

    Lynn, I understand what you are saying, suburbia would be awfully nice about now; I miss people. Cows just won't talk.

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  17. I am late to this party but I had to comment. When I was at my mother's house last month I waged a two-day battle with AT&T over a charge on my mother's phone bill for long distance access. She doesn't have long distance on her land line, and after several calls I seemed to have straightened it out but only after I'd also lodged a complaint with the Better Business Bureau. My mother dropped the BBB complaint after it looked like things had been worked out.

    Just yesterday she called and said, "Guess what I received in the mail today? My phone bill WITH A LONG DISTANCE ACCESS CHARGE." She was boiling mad. I was boiling mad. She's recovered enough from her surgery to call and complain and threaten another BBB complaint. I also told her to call the local TV station and see if some crusading reporter will take the story.

    I think big companies believe you won't look at your bill and will just pay the bottom line. HA! They never met my mother.

    P.S. Love the new background and the header photo.

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