It’s not every day that a hardened staff writer walks into the newsroom in tears.
“What would cause such a phenomenon?” you ask.
Three words, friends — Union Post Office.
I don’t know how many of you out there have had the absolute joy and pleasure of attempting postal chores at the ol’ UPO, but if you have avoided it thus far, stay away.
A typical trip to the UPO begins waiting in a line comparable to a bread line in cold, communist Russia.
This uncommonly long line is a direct result of two factors: inefficiency and high demand.
One would think the long-time employees would have adjusted the former problem to accommodate the latter, but this is the federal government.
There are never more than two people running the UPO, so if one decides it’s potty time, add another hour to your stay.
Then there’s the package-getting process.
If you ever have had a Union PO Box, then you know what happens when the workers have to go get a package from the back.
This strange and deadly ritual requires the employees to disappear for at least five minutes into the bowels of hell, or whatever is back there.
They return with the package as if they have slain a few dragons and begin the intense interrogation procedure required to give one the BMG Selection of the Month.
One would think UPO workers would rather get more packages at once simply because they would have to slay fewer dragons back there, but not our valiant postal employees — “One at a time.”
And never a please or thank you.
All UPO employees must be rude and unflinching. It’s required.
Another bit of advice: NEVER try to mail an improperly packaged item from the UPO.
All hell breaks loose if you don’t have your box up to U.S. Postal Service code.
What that code entails is entrusted only to postal employees, so a normal citizen won’t know about the code until a postal employee yells at him or her for breaking it.
The moral of the story is simple: If you value your time and your pride, stay away from the UPO.
If anyone can loan me a few carrier pigeons, please e-mail [email protected].
Rebekah Monson
Off the cuff
March 5, 2002