I had to stop by the Woodbridge PO on my way home yesterday, to pick up a certified letter. The line was ridiculously long, and was moving very slowly. There were four employees working the counter. Needy Girl was being helped at counter A (we’ll be referring back to this point momentarily). Counter B was being monopolized by Student Guy, who was apparently trying to get official papers mailed with some sort of guaranteed delivery by X date. It involved much instructing and much filling out of forms, which he was allowed to do at the front desk, without being asked to step aside so someone else could be helped while he was filling out forms.
I don’t recall who was at counters C and D. They were moving slowly, onna counta the workers were slow-poking along like they hadn’t a care in the world, but at least they were moving. Then, counter D employee put up his closed sign and went on break. On his way, he stopped by counter A, to see what was going on with Needy Girl. Then counter B stepped over to counter A, to kibitz. And I’ll be damned if it didn’t end up with all four employees crammed behind counter A, being monopolized by Needy Girl. Not fair!
At this point, the line obviously stopped moving entirely. Finally, a woman behind me walked up to the counter and asked them to call someone from in back to help out, because the line had not moved in 15 minutes. Five minutes later, I was contemplating whether or not to just leave and come back another day. I was second in line at that point, and had been for 20 minutes, but I had no reason to think I was going to get waited on anytime soon.
Finally, counter B asked Student Guy to move aside, so she could wait on the man in front of me. When it was my turn, she grabbed the receipt out of my hand and told me to sign and print my name on the little electronic screen thingy. Well, I am short, and I could not see the screen, because of the glare from the overhead lights. I tried tipping it, which made the screen go wonky. I said I was having trouble seeing the screen, and Counter B snarked at me to sign my name and print it beneath. Excuse me?! That’s what I was trying to do, you fuckwit! I finally managed to get my name entered, and then had to print my address on the next screen. She actually told me to hurry up. WTF?! I know there was a long line, but she was the one who had been wasting our time, so it’s not appropriate to chivy me along. Anyway, when I told her again that I was having trouble seeing the screen, because I am short, and she told me to pull it to the edge of the desk. It was at the edge of the desk, and I still couldn’t see it,[1] you giant ass!
And then, before she’d even finished waiting on me, she called the next person! Hello?! I’m not done yet! Then, as I was walking away, she had the nerve to command me to have a nice day. You’ve got to be kidding me, I said.
I know the USPS is not like other service-oriented businesses, in that they have a monopoly, are a government agency, and they can pretty much do whatever the hell they want. It’s still pretty mind boggling that they can get away with treating their customers like that, though.
And the newest rate hike? It galls us, it does!
Also, as I was walking out the door, an hour after arriving? Needy Girl was still at counter A. Who knows how long she was there before I’d arrived, or how long she stayed after I’d left.
_____________________________
[1] How do they serve little people or folks in wheelchairs?
red paper boat 