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You can always count on something happening in the post office by
Peary Perry | |
Each
and every week for the past twenty or so years I’ve sat down and knocked out one
of these columns. Each week that goes by, I search for something new to write
about. In all of these years I cannot think of a single thing that I’ve written
about more than once or twice. I seem to do a lot about men and women, but that
just seems natural to me.
The other topic I’ve focused upon is the government.
It always seems like there is something to write about in that category. I never
run out of things to discuss. This past week was not different.
As you
might recall, we’re moving into another house. We finally sold ours and started
moving over a week ago. Moving entails changing your address, moving your utilities
and various other functions. If you’re trying to look for something to write about,
it also gives you an opportunity to observe new things, any of which might be
the subject of another weekly effort.
This
past week was no exception. My first trip was to the post office. You can always
count on something happening there. As luck would have it, I made two observations
which I’ll tell you about. Several years ago, we stopped receiving mail at our
house due to some folks stealing things in our box. We started using a post office
box. Trust me that has led to some things I could write several columns about,
but I don’t have the time this week. Anyway, after standing in line for about
fifteen minutes I handed over my two keys for the box to one of the guys at the
counter. I told him that I had changed my address the week before and just wanted
to return the keys. He hands me a two page form to fill out. I’m thinking it’s
to get the money back for the unused portion of my box rent which I had just paid.
Seeing that it looked rather lengthy, I stepped to the side so other people could
take care of their business. I told the postal employee that I would fill it all
out and was he the person that should get it once I finished. He said… ‘Yes, and
then I can give you your two dollars back.” I asked what happened to my box rent
and he said I’d have to come back for another form; this one was just for the
return of my key deposit. I walked out, who has time to fill out two pages for
two dollars? Not me.
On the way to the car, another guy has one of the
drop in boxes open and is taking all of the mail out and putting it into a big
basket. A lady stops and hands him a couple of letters. He tells her they have
to go into the slot in the box once he’s finished cleaning it out. She tells him
that she’ll miss the pick up if she has to do that and can’t he just put them
in his basket while she’s standing there? He says, nope has to go into the box.
Then he closes the box, pushes the basket away and the woman stands there. I told
her to go back into the post office and put the mail in the slot inside, it might
still go out. Insanity.
I
call the alarm people to have my alarm disconnected. After you
go through about five minutes of some unknown music the voice mail prompt tells
you that if you want to change or disconnect your service, press three. I do this
and the music comes back on. Another three or four minutes goes by and finally
a real human (I suppose she was real) comes on the line and I tell her I want
to stop the service since we’re moving. She says I can’t do this at this number
since they are the local office and I have to go through the national office to
cancel service. I ask if that’s the case, why have an option number three on your
voice prompt and she tells me that she really doesn’t know , but it’s always been
there and she gets asked this question several times a day.
My
final for the day was when I called the power company to disconnect my electricity.
Here again, you get a full ten minutes of Mozart’s string quartet for cement pouring
or something like this. Anyway, the prompt tells you to enter your ten digit account
number and press the pound sign. I do this four times and each time it tells me
I don’t have a valid account. Finally another human comes on the line ( I swear
it’s the same woman as the one working at the alarm company) who tells me I don’t
have an account with this number. I tell her that’s funny since they have been
cashing my checks for over ten years without any problems. She asks if there is
a hyphen before the last number in my account. I tell her yes and she says that’s
the problem. She says I must enter the account number as well as the hyphen. I
tell her there is no hyphen on a telephone and she tells me… “I hear this every
day…..”
I have to stop now and go unload some boxes.
©
Peary Perry
Letters From North America March
11, 2009 column
Syndicated weekly in 80 newspapers
Comments go to pperry@austin.rr.com
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