Linear Lunacy
Friday, March 25, 2011 at 10:10AM Waiting in line (on line, if you are from New York City) is one of my least favorites activities. But, sometimes, if you bide your time, the payoff can result in a delicious meal at a restaurant, or an entertaining movie without a car chase. However, standing in formation at the post office is as close to purgatory as I ever want to come. The reward for patience is negligible. No wine. No popcorn.
I discovered that you should never go to the post office on a Monday morning, before April 15th, especially when there are five customer service windows, twenty irritated people in line, and only one traumatized mail lady assigned to service everyone. Standing in the middle of that group gave me the opportunity to observe the ensuing drama. The young woman at the head of the queue had a screaming child attached to her left leg. The child’s cries echoed throughout the building, and I learned that if you want people to allow you to go ahead of them, it’s smart to cement a wailing toddler to one of your appendages.
As luck would have it, the next person was an indecisive stamp collector, who, after a painstaking perusal of all of the stamps available, finally left, after purchasing a single stamp. Then a guy stepped up to the window carrying an odd shaped package. He was mailing it to his mother-in-law. It resembled either a machete or a baseball bat. Either way, he’d better never divorce his wife.
The next customer purchased a roll of “Hardly Forever” stamps, and then a man stepped up to the counter with a flat box that he proceeded to assemble, tape and address. An old lady yelled, “Step aside S--- H---!” and as the muttering crowd pushed forward, he complied. Everyone cheered when a second mailman appeared behind one of the counters, but he left posthaste because he had no change in his cash drawer. Then the phone rang and he carried on a jolly conversation. When he finally returned to the counter, he had to leave again to collect a month’s worth of mail for the next person in line. This was the final straw for the woman in front of me, who demanded to see a supervisor.
After impatiently tapping, The Battle Hymn of the Republic, on the counter with her blood red fingernails, she finally got her wish, and the supervisor reluctantly slunk out of his hiding place. He informed her that because of cutbacks, the Postal Service was understaffed, but she could fill out a complaint form. “While I am here,” she begged, “Can you help me send this registered letter?” “No,” he replied, “I don’t do that. I supervise. You will have to get back into line.”
Finally, it was my turn. My forms for the Internal Revenue Service were prepared, addressed, sealed and ready to send. The next day I tracked my package on its way to “Never, Never Land”. My IRS form had been picked up, confirmed and delivered to the wrong destination. April Fool! It took a month, and several phone calls to get my package to the right destination, but my taxes finally got delivered to the IRS.
I received a letter of apology from the U.S. Postal Service with a sheet of “Almost Forever” stamps. I think I will go to the grocery store, get in line and use a machine to check myself out.
Esther Blumenfeld (“The machine is broken. Get in line.”)
Reader Comments (1)
I know there is a true story in there. However, before getting in line to check yourself out, take a moment to see how that is working out. Some people are not capable of doing this and spend a lot of time trying before they ask for a clerk (who isn't always there) to help them.. Upon review of this comment, I see that I ended a sentence in a preposition..is that still not allowed?