It’s on going, so bear with me while I catch everyone up.
Have you ever experienced a drought in getting your mail? Like, you’ve gone a few days in a row with the box being completely empty? It’s pretty normal. Skip a few days here and there. No biggie.
But what about 8 days in a row? Or 11? About twice a month?
Not normal. Huge biggie.
You know God always finds ways to teach you lessons from life experiences? I think this time He might be letting me know it’s ok to repeatedly ask for a postal worker to be dismissed so she might not harm any other mail box owners. Or maybe He’s teaching me about how to tell the world how to better handle a phone tree.
Yeah, He wants me to let every organization that uses them know THEY’RE DUMB! Just answer the phone when I hit zero FOR CUSTOMER SERVICE instead of sending my back through the entire list of options while I hold. I also am 100% positive he hates hearing that stupid Uncle Kracker song while everyone’s on hold. Even my pediatrician’s office has “and swim threw your veins like a fish in the sea” on loop. Enough. ENOUGH!!!
So, I don’t get regular mail at our new house. When it all began back in September, it was for stupid reasons like “Your mailbox is 1/4 of an inch below your neighbor’s, and I can’t reach it” even though she’d been reaching it just fine for the previous owners. She reaches it well enough to leave us their mail and a note about why she can’t leave us ours regularly. So what’s the big deal now?
Pat went out and raised it a smidge. Problem solved. No biggie, again.
But it was. It has remained a biggie since flippin’ SEPTEMBER!!!
Then she told us the box was too far back. Ok, Pat fixed that, too.
We were still going several days between receiving any mail, other than these silly little notes she’d leave us that told us to pick it all up at the post office. And I did that, too. I went during the times indicated on those notes, and let me tell you friends, it was NEVER there. The response I always got was, “She must still have it on her route with her in her truck.”
WOMAN!!! GIVE ME MY MAIL!
The story does not end, guys. She can’t be bothered with things like Christmas decorations on mailboxes. No way, Jose! My cute little Christmas Lights Cover WITH MY NAME AND HOUSE NUMBER on it sent her into hysterics. So much so that she REFUSED to leave mail until I removed the decorations because it caused too much confusion. And it interfered with our red flag. How the crap does she know that? We never use it because we know she won’t pick up the mail.
Did she stop her truck long enough to fiddle with it one day to make that kind of call? Does she have a manual she keeps within arms reach to reference for asinine reasons she can legally withhold mail? What about that whole felony thing? Tampering with mail is a felony. A CRIME. I need the crying emoji just plastered to the front of our box, because every day, it just seems like she’s gone farther and farther to the dark side of being a butt face for no reason.
I posted a story about our Christmas cards on Facebook, so I won’t rehash that event (I’m not bitter) but I will say she hates bags from Old Navy. I order a good bit of stuff from there (Whatup Old Navy Bucks? I Love You!) and that grey-blue package must make her blood boil. These always fit in a standard mailbox. If they didn’t Old Navy would have sent it an a cardboard box. Our old Mailman made jokes about how many of these boxes I would get. Hank even would say “Mr. Craig brought us new clothes!!!” when he was smaller, it was so frequent.
Not this woman. We don’t even know who she is. Other than her name.It may be hard to read, but the reason she couldn’t leave these 4 shirts, 2 dresses, and a pack of socks (all kid sizes) was because there was no location to leave out of the rain.
How about the mailbox? That’s a start.
Or the covered front porch. There’s another option.
Or the brick ledge on the side of the house that also is covered by our roof. Three different places to leave it, and she still said there was no response at the door between 12 & 2 pm.
Zero cars in the driveway, but she still took the time to write no response at the door. She got out of her truck to walk to our front porch that is covered to see if anyone was home in the rain when all she had to do was set that joker in the mailbox.
The worst part was how long it actually took for me to get this package from her. Guess. Go ahead, I’ll wait.
… … … … …
It took 5. FIVE. whole days to get it back because she kept toting it around town on her route according to the post master.
We’ve taken the necessary steps to log official complaints and document the evidence of us fixing her requests and her making up dumb stuff, but it still hasn’t stopped her. I see her every morning while I’m at the daycare, so I know she’s in the ‘hood. She stops at the daycare. But she doesn’t stop at our house.
Unless it’s to leave crap like this after 8 days of absolutely nothing.A piece of junk from citi bank and one from a debt consolidation firm.
Yes, please. I need those things in my mailbox like I need air. What I don’t need are the bills that can’t be put on online drafts, or the insurance statements, or that birthday invitation we got 3 weeks too late. No thank you. I need you to keep going the way you’re going, riding my Grocery Outlet sale flyer around, while I wonder why I’m getting a call from the cable department on why I haven’t paid this month. Sorry, Vick, it’ll be there soon. I didn’t receive that friendly bill for February, so it just slipped my mind between all the working and mothering and cooking and laundry I do.
I guess the best approach at this point is too just pray for her sweet little soul, God love her. Or, maybe ya’ll could just start sending me stuff and we’ll keep track of when it makes it way to my house. Like a game. “Oh, Emily, did you get that postcard of the fat lady at the beach? I sent it 2 months ago?” or “Hahahaha! Emily, surely your mail lady gave you that catalog for Nascar Nation I signed you up for?” Nope. Haven’t gotten any of it, but I bet it was read cover to cover at some point.
I do appreciate the support we’ve received on how to deal with her.Seems like there are plenty of people willing to sit at the mailbox to stare her down or threaten her with poisoned cookies, but for now, I’ll just keep lamenting my troubles online. It’s gotta get better, right? The only comfort we’ve found is that she’s not targeting us. She’s a butt face to most of her route.