DO NOT. I repeat > DO NOT go to the post office over lunch hour(s).
I have these items that have been sitting in my house for months (literally) , waiting to get shipped to friends. Yesterday, I decided today is The DAY. They WILL go. So i called my sweet neighbor lady who lives on the other side of the duplex ( doesn’t that sound more official then ‘ on the other end of the farm house’ 🙂 and asked her if i could drop Kobe off for a few minutes while I run to the Post Office. Kierra had just fallen into a deep peaceful sleep, so i uncovered the door that runs from our house to theirs and took the monitor over for her to keep an ear on.
I had two bags of stuff to mail, so i went to the closest post office that was an actual P.O. building. Last time, I went to one in a tiny convenience store and it took FOREEVVERR for the lady to come process everything.
I piled my supplies on the small shelf in the P.O. , found boxes that would fit them and asked for their free ridiculously flimsy, strong, sticky ,no body, tape. I used to do lots of shipping and packing in MT so I knew what i was getting, but the scissors she handed me was horrible and i finally used it as a straight edge and rapidly ripped the tape against it to tear it.
It took me quite a few precious minutes to make the box work since i had to folds it all together and the post Mistress informed me that i couldn’t have it bulging anywhere because that was against the rules. I taped and tugged and shoved and pinched until i had it all in good, tight, ship shop shape. I was hurrying as fast as possible, thinking of Kierra at home and the possibility that she would wake up and gag or pull her oxygen off or something, Even if i knew someone was watching her.
I was just finishing taping the last box when the overly cheerful, totally professional words came “We are closing now for lunch, Mam.”
I was so surprised because it was only 11:30, so i said, “OK, I just have to finish taping this yet.” I thought it was a warning that they would soon be closed, but i turned around to find her pulling the metal barriers down over the counter. I GRABBED my boxes and flew over there, quaking in my shoes because I still had to address them .
I had barely reached the counter and pulled out my wallet, when she sweetly said “Can you bring those back later so we can process them all?” eyeing my three boxes suspiciously.
I stared at her like she had lost her mind. “No, not really. I have my children with a sitter.”
“Well. We are closed now. I won’t get paid for my lunch if I do all these yet.” She said in an infuriatingly even, pleasant voice.
I looked at my three neatly wrapped boxes and was speechless.
“They aren’t international are they? ” she continued.
“Oh good, then we won’t have to worry about custom forms to fill out. Just come back later today and we will process them all.”
I was grasping at straws. “Can I pay for them now and you can process them this afternoon?” (they were mostly flat rate boxes)
“No, that won’t work. I won’t get paid for my lunch if I do that now.”
I HEARD that Lady!!!! But this is like a MAJOR expedition for me! Do you want me to bring my two children in here which will take me half an hour to load and drive and unload and have my daughter cry in your office the whole time and my little boy drive everyone to distraction as he explores every nook and cranny while i try to shuffle my big bag, sway Kierra’s seat, pay for my stuff, hold up the line, and make a diving grab for Kobe , streaking toward the nicely stacked pile of boxes?
I think i muttered something about my husband helping me and what hours they run and some other incoherent mumbo jumbo.
“Did you give the scissors back?” She continued. I didn’t even want to answer that question. I had laid it on the counter first thing and watched as she put it away. I wouldn’t even WANT a scissors that doesn’t work like that, thank you very much.
“Yes, I laid it on the counter with the tape” I answered.
And picked up my boxes. and left. They are still sitting in the van.
I think God was trying my patience and took me serious when i asked Him to ‘give me strength for whatever comes today”. i just didn’t expect it to be at the post office! 🙂
So here’s the practical lesson learned that I will share with you…
Do NOT go to the Post Office any hour over lunch time.
They do not get paid for lunch if they help you 🙂
6 thoughts on “Unbendable Lunch Hours”
Oh.My.Word. I would have been out-of-my-MIND with fury! That is unbelievably rude. That post lady is just lucky she was dealing with such a nice person! I wish you a lovely day today filled with helpful people and unexpected blessings. 🙂
I was somewhere in that realm, Gina! 🙂 🙂 🙂
Lol even if I shouldn’t. Some people don’t realize how vulnerable a mom can feel in town and that is an understatement
Ha Beth!!!! You got that EXACTLY right!
You should have burst into tears… It would have been totally justifiable. My husband got a bunch of their flat rate boxes home for shipping his textbooks as they sell. We also bought a digital scale so we can pay online and print out our own mailing labels. Makes the PO runs so much faster.
Ok. Maybe our next investment will be a scales. That would be 100% wonderful!!!