Well, I'm somewhat relieved to know that I am not the only one having issues with the USPS who works the neighborhood around my office. Only somewhat, because the service is still appalingly bad.
The mailman likes to leave little "love notes" for me down at the box. Semi-threatening notes about picking up our mail. The thing is, I go and check the mailbox several times a week, because I've caught on to the fact that the box is somewhat small, and we tend to get a lot of mail -- most of it junk. However, if I go down three times in a week, twice I'm almost guaranteed to find an empty mailbox. Completely empty, without one sigle flyer or envelope inside. I am convinced that he does not bring it every single day. I think he waits till he gets a good pile, and then gripes about how it doesn't all fit in the box. Well, duh.
Today, I heard a rumble in the street, and looked out to see a mail truck double parked outside the building. I see the mailman carry a medium size brown box out of the truck. (Note that this isn't a terribly huge and heavy box. It look like it couldn't have weighed more than ten pounds at the most, and was only slightly longer than the long, narrow Priority Mail boxes.)
I hear the buzzer ring for the second floor (directly below mine.) Since someone left the outer door to the office open when they went through last, I can hear a woman open her door downstairs, and call down the stairs, "Yes?"
To which the postman gave a muffled reply.
"Well, bring it on up."
"I'm not a delivery boy, ma'am." This was delivered in a hostile sneer, loud enough for me to hear all the way up on the third floor. Which is sort of funny, because I think the definition of the USPS includes delivery. What, neither rain nor snow nor dark of night will keep us from making our appointed rounds . . . in your general vicinity? Close enough for you to come out and meet me halfway?
There were a few more angry exchanges, and then the woman said, "I'm going to call your supervisor if you don't bring it up here right now!"
"Go ahead!" Then the woman slammed her door, and a few minutes later, I saw the mailman go back to his truck. With the package in his hands.
I don't know if it was something she had to sign for, or what, but it all seemed kind of rediculous. What do you bet that package gets "lost"? Sure, he should have brought it up, but I can't imagine ordering something (and it must've been somewhat important, because it was covered with Priority stickers, I could see that much from my window) and then refusing to go down two flights of stairs to get it.
I think of the poor UPS guy, a much older man, who sometimes has to lug our orders from Staples up. And I order a lot of copy paper for our office. All the way up to the third floor, with no elevator.