Im standing at my case, sorting mail. A clerk--a very sweet clerk, whom I like a lot--hands me a signature required international parcel. I glance at the address--Something Street--and take the parcel. After checking the address more closely (2525 Something Street), I realize that I only have three boxes on Something Street, and this parcel doesnt go to any to them. I check the name on the parcel against the names on the boxes just in case our friendly little Chinese exporter got a little confused. Nope. Name doesnt match. I catch my friendly little clerk as shes passing by and tell her that the parcel isnt mine. I say, We can ask him, indicating another rural sub who knows this route, and see if he... but shes already scurrying away. Or, I think, you can just take my word for it. I turn back to my case and continue putting up mail. I was jerked out of a wonderful daydream--that didnt include my working in a post office... or anywhere, really--by a voice behind me saying, Do you have 2525 Something Street? I turn around to see a supervisor standing behind me, holding the parcel in question, and fixing me with a stern, slightly accusatory stare. I assumed an equally stern, but somewhat less accusatory expression and, tapping each address with my finger for emphasis, said, I have three boxes on Something Street. Here (tap) I have 2031. Over here I have (tap) 1549 and (tap) 1550. But do you have 2525? Internal sigh and eye roll. Mmm. Lets see. Tap....... tap... tap. No. He stands there, seemingly incredulous, for a moment or two, and then scurries away. I turned back to my case, snickered, then pushed the hidden switch. The entire third shelf on the right slid silently one inch to the left, revealing the slot for 2525 Something Street. It was all a clever ruse to avoid delivering a signature required international parcel. Heh. I made that up. I didnt snicker.
Posted on: Sat, 03 Jan 2015 23:46:12 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015