Say it ain’t so! Is this really the time to give us more bad news? It’s been recently announced that the U.S. Postal Services will have cutbacks, including a halt in Saturday delivery. This is ok, compared to the worst of it: impending bankruptcy, closing entire post offices, and the idea that we could loose our beloved right to daily mail service. We could lose our opportunity to receive bills, junk mail, magazines, and an occasional, rare but treasured, personal note or letter.
The post office has not asked us, the customer, for our thoughts on how to make it better, though anyone who stands in a line for twenty-five minutes to send a package does have some good ideas. My thoughts? Staff up and stock up during peak seasons. Staff up for lunchtime, not the middle of the afternoon, just before the office closes.
The other day I was at the post office around noon, standing behind eleven people in line with one window open for service. The second employee is on his way out for lunch. I watched the lone postal worker put her hands to her face, very seriously, in a Home Alone moment and say, “You can’t leave me like this, I’m the only one here!” The departing employee only mumbled, “I have to take my break.”
I started to time transactions. Each took close to five minutes per person. Each customer had so many questions and I watched several people just forfeit the line saying, “This is just not worth it.” I looked around to see signs that read, “We have all your mailing and packing supplies,” over mostly empty shelves and holders.
The empty window became the de facto spot for dropping off pre-paid packages, a visual to-do list stacking up next to the poor gal behind the counter. People dropping off these packages would cautiously move ahead of the waiting line, announcing with hands in the air, “Just dropping off packages, not taking cuts!” One woman expressed her fear that the line might actually turn on her.
The lone worker was doing a good job. She announced to the all that she graduated postal school just the day before. I watched her hands move to her forehead and slide to her cheeks in despair, as she bravely forged on. The line remained a steady twelve to fifteen people, snaking out the door.
A darling, young French couple in front of me was chatting and offered congratulations for surpassing the French Postal Service in both attitude and speed. Several of us in line thanked them and shared our collective pride with eye rolling and sighs.
This post office was my former neighborhood substation with fun, kind, and helpful people. When it opened six years ago the team told me they had requested transfers away from the “big location” because their “co-workers were crabby.” Is this the result of all the cutbacks, weaning funds, and drastic changes occurring in our country’s postal service?
I bemoan and I mourn the impending passing of what Benjamin Franklin left to us—an amazing system of communication and courier services that has a great history and legacy. Please Santa, fix the postal service!
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