Dear Sir or Ma'am,
I got a parcel notice in my mailbox today.
You didn't bother to put the very small parcel of ejuice into my mailbox, fine.
You didn't bother to go 5 steps into my building and knock on my door to deliver it to me. I can live with that. I know you did not attempt to do so because I was home all day, chained to the computer to catch up on charting.
However, you DID mark on the slip that you tried to.
Liar, liar, pants on fire! (but I digress)
You didn't bother to drop it off at the apartment office like most of the letter carriers do. I guess I can cope. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that until I had walked 3 blocks down to the office in 104 degree heat.
After determining that my package is at the post office, I trudge back to my apartment to get my keys, climb into my mobile oven (aka any car in Texas in summer) and fight rush hour DFW metro traffic to get to the post office before they close.
I was thrilled that I made it to the post office in time. I was not thrilled to spend the next 15 minutes standing in line with other hot and irritable people waiting to get their packages.
My mood brightened when my turn arrived as they were locking up for the night. My juice was here.
Alas, the clerk shook his head. He refused to go look for my juice because the slip came today and it was still on the mail truck and would not be available to pick up until tomorrow.
I insisted that the letter carrier did not attempt to deliver the package. I mean, why would you carry a package with you that you have absolutely no intention of delivering, right? My words fell on deaf ears. To cover for the mailman, you refused to even check.
So, my lovely juice is spending the night at the post office, having never left.
So Mr-or-Ms-Letter Carrier and any associated conspirators, I curse you all.
May the clerks all get paper cuts and may the carriers all step in sidewalk landmines.
Grrrrrr.
Sincerely,
A Taxpayer
I got a parcel notice in my mailbox today.
You didn't bother to put the very small parcel of ejuice into my mailbox, fine.
You didn't bother to go 5 steps into my building and knock on my door to deliver it to me. I can live with that. I know you did not attempt to do so because I was home all day, chained to the computer to catch up on charting.
However, you DID mark on the slip that you tried to.
Liar, liar, pants on fire! (but I digress)
You didn't bother to drop it off at the apartment office like most of the letter carriers do. I guess I can cope. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that until I had walked 3 blocks down to the office in 104 degree heat.
After determining that my package is at the post office, I trudge back to my apartment to get my keys, climb into my mobile oven (aka any car in Texas in summer) and fight rush hour DFW metro traffic to get to the post office before they close.
I was thrilled that I made it to the post office in time. I was not thrilled to spend the next 15 minutes standing in line with other hot and irritable people waiting to get their packages.
My mood brightened when my turn arrived as they were locking up for the night. My juice was here.
Alas, the clerk shook his head. He refused to go look for my juice because the slip came today and it was still on the mail truck and would not be available to pick up until tomorrow.
I insisted that the letter carrier did not attempt to deliver the package. I mean, why would you carry a package with you that you have absolutely no intention of delivering, right? My words fell on deaf ears. To cover for the mailman, you refused to even check.
So, my lovely juice is spending the night at the post office, having never left.
So Mr-or-Ms-Letter Carrier and any associated conspirators, I curse you all.
May the clerks all get paper cuts and may the carriers all step in sidewalk landmines.
Grrrrrr.
Sincerely,
A Taxpayer
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