Post Office Nazi

See, you should never, ever make me mad because I will never ever forget about it. And that takes up too much of my brain power.

It's been a long time since I've come across a post office nazi. Today was my day. Today I had Ken serving me.

I mail packages once if not twice a week because of my side business that will probably put me in jail for tax evasion at some point. I've been mailing packages for over 5 years. By now, I know what I'm doing and I know how to do it, and if you tell me I can't do it, then the crazy person in me will come out and spit fire at you.

I was stuck in a long line, between a man who was snorting and coughing and making really weird sucking up snot noises (I was staying way back from him – I don't know where he's been) and a lady who smelled musty and wanted to just walk over me because she was in such a hurry. So the line experience at the post office was not a fun one for me today. But I've been through it before. I just stare of into space and don't react to how anyone is acting (snorty smiled at me a few times, but I just acted like he wasn't there, and musty got right on my back, so I bashed her with my bag).

When I got to the front, I made the mistake of taking it upon myself to go the counter where the last customer left. Like some crazy magic act, the lady who was helping people at that counter disappeared and reappeared at the other end of the long countertop to take passport pictures. By the time I stepped back in line, the musty lady was in my spot, and so I had to move off to the side but in front of her so she wouldn't try to sneak in before me.

The next free worker called me to his counter.

His name was Ken.

I put my first couple of envelopes down, and then a padded mailer with a delivery confirmation slip to go with it. Ken informed me that I could not send my padded mailer first class with delivery confirmation. I would have to send it priority.

WHAT?!

So I had to inform my pal Ken that he's incorrect because I do this all the time.

He told me he was sorry that I was misinformed (about 500+ times...), but the package has to be ¾ of an inch thick.

This was my response (because I am a genius under pressure): "But it's a padded mailer!!!!!"

He told me again that he was sorry I was misinformed, but I would have to send it priority.

At this point, I lost my whole sense of control over the packages, and I began to pull out all of them from my bag to sort out the ones I could send. Ken wanted to send the first package priority, and I told him, "No! I'm not sending it priority!!! I'll go to another post office!!!!"

He said okay.

So Ken turned out to be a post office nazi – the type that reads all the mailing regulations and won't let anything slide. They are a rare breed, but they do exist. At our local post office, you can pretty much do anything you want once you get to know the people who work there. The last time I came across a post office nazi, it was a few years back when I was told I couldn't use delivery confirmation on a cardboard mailer. I had the same reaction I had today, but I stopped trying to use delivery confirmation with the cardboard mailers after that point. There is no way I'm going to make people pay for priority mail for something that could just as easily get sent first class.

So, today's lesson is this: You never know when you'll come across a post office nazi, and, always stuff some tissue paper into a padded envelop to make it ¾ of an inch.