I Hate Being Mean

I hate to behave like a B, I really do. But sometimes something happens that just pushes all the buttons and then Customer Service makes it even worse.

I live in a new-ish subdivision that has those mail delivery thingies with 12 or so mail boxes and 2 bins for packages. Well, I pulled up to mine as I do every night after work, opened my box. Happy day! Stuffed with mail, including magazines!

And a book I had ordered. A hard cover book in a padded envelope. That was crammed into the mailbox.

I messed with that stupid book for at least 20 minutes, trying to pull it out and ultimately giving up after ripping half the envelope off. Then I called the USPS 800#. Maddening. They can't actually help you, they just "document" the problem so someone can call back the next day. And of course, they're the post office, so no e-mail either. Grrr. I was afraid I wasn't exactly polite, and I hate it when I get that way.

Fortunately, I later was able to reach an actual "live" postal worker after the customer service person gave me a local number to call. It was surprising, since it was past 6 pm at the time. He said he would pass a message to the supervisor to have the carrier correct it. So perhaps today, I'll have a new book to read.