What a sight for sore eyes. Remember the days the Mailman used to be your hero?
Whether it was the new issue of Eastbay you’ve been dying to read, your report card that you wanted to rip up, the love letter you’ve been waiting for from the girl you’ve known for 2 days at a church retreat and fell in love with, the “surprise” birthday present from your grandparents who send over a crisp $50 dollar bill in an envelope, the newest sneakers you’ve saved 3 months of your lunch money to buy, and the fuckin list goes on.
But the hero for me is now long gone. The days of me wanting to hug the Mailman and shower him with thanks and gratitude is like the dying breed of girls who didn’t lose their virginity. USPS is probably the biggest piece of shit in the world of shits of pieces.
Not only do they hire the laziest, fattest, most grumpiest fuckin employees that are 2 days away from menopause, they have the most insufficient tracking / phone system. They have absolutely no interest nor do they put in the effort to go the extra mile to make their customers happy. They do the bare minimum to the literal minimum, and complain and roll their fuckin eyes and tap their fake ass nails in irritation. ALL FUCKIN DAY.
I received an e-mail with tracking information provided for a package that was slated to arrive this past Saturday. I get my packages sent to work since I’m not home most of the day, and was disappointed because my work closes on Saturdays. I expected to find a missed delivery notice on my desk walking into work this morning, but came up empty handed. As I tracked my package online, here’s what I found :
No indication of whether my package is going to be delivered or held at the station.
No Missed Delivery paper slip to find out whether they’ll be re-attempting delivery.
So I give a go at their 1-800 number and of course I’m on hold for 20 minutes.
Of course there’s an unexpected high call volume, and I’m imagining these fat ass employees talking about Lottery tickets and playing Bingo on Thursday night instead of picking up the gotdamn phone.
So lo and behold this Italian dude that sounds like Mario picks up the phone and takes me 5 minutes to get my tracking number across to him. Mama-mia.
He tells me that the package will be at the station, and gives me the address to go.
I decide to take my ass to the station, and the next chain of events is what’s making me write this essay.
I get to the station and wait in line.
There’s an old dude who wants to make a money order and decides to bring a black plastic bag with 60 dollars in nickels and pennies to help him towards his final amount. He’s holding up the whole fuckin line. So after waiting for this Coinstar transaction to go down, I get to the counter to find out the location only holds packages for PO Box customers. So off I fuckin go to the next location.
I get to the second location which has no indoor area where you can retrieve your package. It looked like a booth on the side of a building where you can buy movie tickets from. There’s a sign that clearly reads, “RING THE BELL ONLY ONCE” and so I follow directions being the fuckin perfect citizen of society that I am.
I wait for 4 fuckin minutes before a Maria brings her fat ass slowly down the booth and asks me my reason for visiting. Another 5 minutes in tracing my package and waiting around, she informs me that the package is out for re-delivery and I should be receiving it today.
By now I’m fuming. I’m looking for the fuckin Eagle on the USPS logo so I can snap his neck in half and be chased down by animal lovers. I’m ready to hi-jack a USPS truck and make it rain electricity bills all over LA. I’m ready to get my hands on every pepper spray can in their battlefield stations and spray every employee with it.
But being the fuckin angel that I am, I calmly walk away and decide to rant here instead.
So if you’re reading this Post Master General of the ever so fuckin magnificent United States Postal Service, I wish you ten paper cuts on your tongue while you’re licking an envelope you piece of shit. Don’t give me a fuckin tracking number if you’re not going to update it because your services are incompetent. No fuckin wonder your two Disney stamp rolls away from going out of business, and you had to force feed UPS and Fedex to use you for final delivery. Hire some better fuckin employees, update the technology, and get to fuckin work because we’re YEARS behind on being efficient with our delivery system.