I don’t know if it’s because I am getting older (and older people are crabby, right?) or if I have just had enough of poor service but I am going to rant about what happened to me this morning as I tried to mail a package.

I stopped at my local convenience store/post office this morning at 8:45am to grab some milk ($4.00 a gallon! Really?) and to mail off a PREPAID package.  I went up to the clerk, who has worked there for years, and I said I would like to just drop off the package as it was prepaid.  She looked at me as if I had just asked her if the next flight to the moon was on time.  Now I realize that my hair is kinda oddly colored (faded black with tones of purple and red hues) and it is weirdly cut (never force your husband to buzz your hair) but the bald spot has grown in somewhat and is not that noticeable anymore, but I have been going into that store for 24 years and she has waited on me many times and I am always polite and friendly, so the “look”  took me by surprise.        “Uh, I don’t do the mail”, she told me in a spacey, this-is-my-first-day-on-the-job-and-I-don’t-know-what-to-do, tone.  The “post office” is literally two steps away from her spot and I have often given my mail to the clerk working the cash register so this was unexpected.  Ok, I thought.  Maybe the post office part doesn’t open until 9am, so I said to her, “Oh, is the post office not open yet?”.   Once again I got “the look”.  “Uh, ya it’s open….(looking at me with a “lights-on-but-nobody-home” stare) “but he’s in the back doing paperwork”.    Stare, stare, stare.

Now I’m starting to get ticked….and I can feel my blood pressure starting to rise.  I am thinking, “Ok sweetheart, what am I supposed to do now?”.   The stinkin’ package is PREPAID for goodness sake.  So we stare at one another.  I’m getting ready to pull a “Jodi” on her (my sister…you don’t want to mess with her) when she takes the package and mumbles something about maybe putting it over two feet to the post office counter.   I am dumbfounded.  This is an adult woman.  (I am getting a headache just writing about it!)  I would expect this kind of behavior from a teen on her first day of work, not knowing the ropes but this woman has been there for years.

Know had she told me that she couldn’t accept the package, as you have to be an employee of the Postal Service and I would have to go get the postal clerk, no problem.  Seems to me, tho, that he should be doing the paperwork at the counter so if someone needs him, he is available since the post office is OPEN.  But the fact that she just left me hanging, really upset me.

What ever happened to “The customer is always right”?   I am still shocked at the poor manner of service I get everywhere I go.  And anyone who knows me knows I am always nice and friendly so I know it isn’t just me.   Just more evidence of our decaying society.  I cannot imagine what this world will be like when my grandbabies are adults.  Heaven help us all.


About thelumberjackandthegypsy

The lumberjack is my husband and he owns Arrowhead Wood Products; Arrowhead Toboggan and Snowshoe; and Lake Superior Furniture Co. and is the exclusive manufacturer of wood shutters for Summit Hill Shutter Co. The gypsy is me, and I have a passion for teaching people to tap into their creative side, even when they think they don't have one! I did not grow up creative or artsy and I was in my thirties before I started sewing and creating things. I am a rug hooker; artisan teddy bear maker; painter (from pictures to large pieces of furniture!); knitter; doll maker; needle-felter, repurposer; sewer; decorator; blogger; glamper; reader; vintage jewelry maker; junker; and now a shop owner. But the lumberjack and I feel our greatest gifts in this world are our four grandkids and our daughter and her husband and our relationship with Jesus Christ. We have been married for more than 33 years and most of that time we have lived out in the country on a hobby farm where we have raised chickens, turkeys, ducks, goats, pigs and beef cattle. We also homeschooled our only child for her entire school years. We lived out our dream of being like the The Little House on the Prairie and they were great times. I also have a personal blog: where I tell stories of what life on the farm has been like and other things that pop up in my very weird mind. I prefer "quirky or eccentric" instead of weird (sounds more fascinating and less creepy)!

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