Down with the U.S. Postal Service!!!

The USPS doesn't really want to deliver your mail.  

I have very little these days that makes me happy.  About a month and a half ago, I ordered some facial products for $37.  I need that facial cream.  It will make me happy.  I had it delivered to my office like I typically do... but somehow this stupid company got the wrong address and I sorted it out with them. I told it to deliver to my super's apartment because I'm rarely home (and I'm soon to be fired).

So, I check the web site. I was pleasantly surprised at how advanced the site was (read: it looked like the FedEx website).  I put in my tracking number and found out that they attempted delivery and failed. I wondered how this could be because the Super is always home... along with 20 undocumented relatives that he packs into that apartment.  But when I called the USPS they said I could go to the local post office and show my ID and pick up the package.

I woke up extra early this morning and wore a too tight dress.  I got on my bike and immediately regretted my choice of apparel and/or choice to ride a bike.  I rode over to the post office uncomfortably, dismounted my bike and went in.  There were three people in front of me. I was there at 8:30.  It's a small place.. so I actually witnessed that two of those people were there to do what I was attempting to do.  The first lady was denied because she didn't have the tracking number.. and it was clear that the post office worker had the package and wasn't handing it over.  The other woman didn't have an up-to-date id--but came with her lease and a utility bill.  Alas, this wasn't enough to retrieve her package.  She too left in defeat.

It was my turn.  I walked up to the Postal Gatekeeper and told her my story.  She asked for my id which is up to date.  I live at 125 Smith Avenue and the package was sent to Angel in c/o Super @ 127 Smith Avenue.  125 and 127 share a courtyard and it just so happens that 127 is the building with the Super's Apartment.  She looked at my id and then at the screen and said, "The addresses don't match.  Sorry. I can't give you the package."  What????  But it's my name and it's 2 digits off.. and it was sent to my Super... like 95% of people in my hood (most all don't have doormen) have it delivered (if they are gainfully employed, big IF).  She said she couldn't give it to me.

So what am I to do, oh wise Postal Sphinx of the Ghetto?  She offered re-delivering it.  I said, "About that?  How wasn't it delivered when my Super is home all day long and all of his illegal family members are living there with him???"  She said, "Where is his apartment?"  I told her it was down corridor to the left of the building.  

"OH," she says, "The Post Office Delivery guy won't go down a corridor for safety reason."  So, what she is telling me is that the delivery guy drove up the building.. saw that the Super's apartment is not in the front of the building (what super lives in front of the building?) ... got back in his truck and drove away???? 

Are you kidding me? 

So, once again, I asked the riddler what I am to do?  She said, we can redeliver it to your Super and you can tell him to look out for the truck.  But she can't give me a time.  And he doesn't have windows facing the front of the window.  And come on, that's asking a lot of the man. 

She says, what about to your home.  But I'm never home...  She said, "Well, pick a day that you'll be home."

Perfect.  I'll be home after October 15th cause I'm fired after that.  

"OH NO.... We only hold onto packages for 2 weeks... so."  

"So you're telling me that you guys can't deliver the package to me, don't want to deliver the package to my Super and don't want to give it me at the post office.  Is that correct?"  

"Yah."

Clearly, the USPS doesn't care to deliver mail.  And that's why they are losing business to UPS and FedEx even though they are tons more expensive.  

I walked out in a huff and said, "FINE!  I'll throw the money away then!"

Yah right, I went back to the office and called the company and screamed at them... as if it's their fault.  I can't throw away $37. I'm fucking unemployed.