Postal Service

I'm convinced there isn't a happy postal service worker in the world, certainly not in the United States. If there is, he's in the back of the post office somewhere sorting mail, away from the public eye, because I haven't bought a stamp from him. If you're thinking it would seem a bit backwards not putting your more amiable employees on the frontline, you're right -- but what's customer service to an operation whose business services can't be rejected by its customers? Sort of like the DMV -- or really any other government-run organization that we loathe but can't refuse. Postal service workers know we'll always have to mail crap, regardless of how advanced our technology grows, so why smile to bring us back when they know we'll be back anyway, satisfied or not?

This is why the post office harbors endless amounts of bitterness, resentment, and suicidal tendencies. There isn't a more depressing line to stand in (but, again, there’s the DMV). Look at everyone in there next time you pop in to say hello to your postmaster. The post office is everyone's chore, everyone's errand. No one's just "hanging out" at the post office -- not too many "No Loitering" signs around the building. No one is excited to be there -- they're mailing money for bills; they're sending gifts to and unfortunately for someone else; they're realizing that their final price isn't just a flat-rate shipping cost anymore -- it's $1.59 for mail insurance and $2.20 for a receipt upon delivery and $2.12 for a signature confirmation. Matter of fact, the only exciting noun in a post office is bubble wrap, but it's bundled and taped up in a box about to be shipped out.

And let's not forget the ultimate price gouging, the price gouging oil corporations, Starbucks, and Chick-fil-A's gallon of lemonade unanimously tip their hats to: all the different speeds you can select by which your mail can reach its destination. You can have that package on its recipient's doorstep by (A) tomorrow or (B) in about 14 business days. This kills me. Basically, the postal service knows it can get mail anywhere domestically in 48 hours or less, but if you want it mailed simply with lickable American flag stamps, the mailmen are purposefully letting it age in a mysterious mail delivery limbo. Yes, there is actually a caste system in the shipment of mail.

And here we are still confidently writing "Fragile" and "Do Not Bend" on our outgoing mail.