Tuesday, December 02, 2008

How do you order new karma?


Mr. Riot Kitty tells me the universe has interesting kinds of karma.

"My kind," he says, "is that people don't see me. Your kind is that no one ever gets your order right."

Apparently the building I work in has karma, too.

A couple of months ago, the owners of the building moved all of their people to another one. They're selling the building, but my work and another nonprofit are still using space there.

As a result, there's no longer a receptionist, ergo, the mailman doesn't bring in the mail. There's a slot in the front and we asked ahead of time for him to leave slips (like you do) if we have packages. This was after he said, "I'll just leave your mail outside in a bin from now on."

To which we replied, "No, that would be illegal."

It's too much trouble for him to ring the buzzer and wait for us to open the door and pick up the mail.

Apparently it's also too much trouble for him to put the mail in the slot. We came back from the Thanksgiving break and found our FUCKING PAYROLL INFORMATION, as well as envelopes with checks for our annual appeal, on the grass. Soaking wet. Out in the open, for anyone to take.

My mother-in-law, god bless her, works for the post office and is getting to retire at the end of the year. She works in customer service and I imagine she's counting the days. She has actually intervened for me before, when our home mailman was putting the wrong mail in our box. (She asked: "How hard can it be to put the right mail in the right slot?" Apparently, this, too, is part of my karma.)

I know there are people who call who are real jerks. All the more reason for them to take my polite and very real complaint seriously, right?

Silly me.

In my dealings with the post office, I was repeatedly asked all kinds of ridiculous questions before anyone would take my complaint.

Why hadn't we complained before? (We did.)
Why would he want to put your mail in a bin? (My guess is as good as yours.)
Had we talked to the carrier? (Yes.)
Why, then, did this keep happening? (You tell me?)

My favorite question, from the regional post office in our zone:
"Is the slot right near the ground? Is that why he'd put mail on the ground?" (The slot is waist high. As for his motivations, search me.)

And then the final question, which was what made me reach my limit, because I'd heard it so many times: "Why would he put the mail on the ground?"

My reply: "Presumably, because he didn't want to put it in the mail slot."

Who knows what will happen now? Maybe he'll spit on it. I'd like to order some new postal karma, please.

5 comments:

Darth Weasel said...

I just like that they think you are a talented psych: Why would he put the mail on the ground?

Uh...well, he tried to put it on the roof but didn't have a ladder?

He liked the contrast of white against green?

He had to put it somewhere while he picked up his uzi?

Oh, was that over the line? Sorry. I will quit now.

Granny Annie said...

OMG you're too funny then add Darth Weasel to the mix and I'm in hysterics.

By the way, Phyllis Dunaway lives with us but we never see her. She keeps getting mail and we tell the PO that she doesn't live here, but they are determined to leave her mail because our address is on it. I keep looking over my shoulder......

Scarlet said...

Personally, I think you should wait for the mailman and as he bends down to drop the mail on the ground, KICK HIS ASS...HARD!!

Take a video while you're at it. I'd love to see that.

Green tea said...

You have a strange mailman..!

listen for azure said...

Having direct, personal experience with mail people (first, I worked for the Postal Credit Union - I was customer service to the entire Portland posse of postal workers) and most recently when a mail carrier HIT ME HEAD ON ON MY BIRTHDAY (I know she knew it was my birthday. I was wearing my birthday hat) we now have a tradition in my family. Run screaming when you see the man or woman in the blue suit.

My personal postal worker wont come to the house anymore because the dog barks at him. THROUGH THE DOOR. There's no window within 20 feet. Um - I've never known a dog with opposable thumbs that can open a door and attack a mailman. But maybe Ezmond is more talented than I thought.