April 19, 2010
I Have A Question
I went to the Post Office first thing this morning to fetch a package. Ahead of me was a guy who had a P.O. box application. I learned–from his escalated conversations with managers–that he had gone online to the USPS site early this morning, found that this particular branch had boxes available, reserved and paid for one, and made a special trip to finalize it. Turns out, only one person–the branch manager–can issue a P.O. box, and he’s on vacation. The customer (early 30s, smart, fat–has to be an IT guy) obviously was not happy with the poor service (I snorted when the manager on duty said to him, “How online suppose to know what we got at this station?”). But what the guy was really upset about was that he needed a P.O. box today. Right now. And he wasn’t about to leave until he got one.
So I ask you, dear clusterflock: Why might a person be so in need of a same-day post office box?
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first I’m going to luxuriate in this one before I put my mind to it.
It does bear luxuriating.
my first thought was just assholes need a same day p.o. box. but that seemed too easy.
But he wasn’t an asshole. He was polite and serious. Well, he got a little less polite because he was being met with some astonishing comments:
Well, why didn’t you call first?
It didn’t say I needed to call–the USPS site is very clear and indicated that a box was available and reserved for me. That’s why I paid for it and drove down here.
Well, if you’d called we would’ve told you the manager’s on vacation.
He needs it now is why.
But I do not recommend a P.O. box. It is good for some things, but you do not necessarily want to have something fragrant sitting in a confined space exuding an aroma that may be apparent to others. That may, of course, depend on how well your shipper packs the goods.
I am thinking, you know, shipping barbeque. Or the like.
Well, see, I got the impression that something needed to arrive today. And the only way that could happen would be if someone mailed that something at the same branch P.O. Right? Because there is no same-day delivery otherwise. And the guy was willing to pay $39 to get this box for today.
So I’m thinking maybe it’s something, like, kinda less than legal or something, but then that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense because the guy made such a fuss that those people are going to be watching any box of his with steely eyes.
Help me, Sheila. I know you know why he needed the box.
How online suppose to know what we got is indeed a mystery — and one that vexes many an on-site employee.
Oh, I just assumed it was something illegal. Or something he felt he really really needed.
The insistence on same-day service is a bit odd, but maybe the shipper was ready to ship and the receiver was eager to receive — if not today, then within a few days.
This is like a story problem in arithmetic with a speculative spin to it.
When was the branch manager expected to return? I am thinking that the guy wanted to stonewall the staff until someone broke down and bent the rules and issued a key to a P.O. box. Today.
I have experience with these things. And I have a P.O. box.
How online supposed to know when the branch manager on vacation is another mystery. I am not without empathy for that P.O.’s staff.
I should have clarified–the branch manager is getting back tomorrow. So it really is all about Today.
Ah. Yes. Well. Still, Tomorrow is not Today.
Someone should write a song.
“It really is all about Today” is the opening lyric.
Clusterflock Challenge: A song titled “Tomorrow Is Not Today”.
First line: see above.
Oh, I love that P.O. and its staff–I’ve known most of them for years. The front line people are great, but the managers often are clueless. This (assistant) manager kept arguing that somehow it was the customer’s fault for not calling–that he should have known to call.
IT Guy asked what he should do–how he should go about getting a P.O. Box today. They told him to call other branches. And he asked if the money he had paid would automatically transfer to another branch. And he was told that he would probably have to pay again and put in for a reimbursement.
It really was an amazing situation. I lingered as long as I could but finally had to get to work. People were watching me watching the event.
I still want someone to come up with a legal reason for needing a P.O. box today. That’s what I want. So I can stop thinking about it. Because the illegal reasons just aren’t doing it for me on this one.
I just think it’s IT guy thinks if you can instigate a P.O. box acquisition online the system should be smart enough to fulfill his request with our without the branch manager, and “I need a P.O. box today” was his way of doubling down on his certainty.
replace IT guy with me, and you’ve got a pretty good snapshot into my sometimes psychology.
it’s about the *shouldness* of it all.
How about this? He owns property in Alice, Texas but for reasons unspecified he is a person of no fixed addrerss. And he happens to be in Dallas on the eve of closing on the sale of his Alice property and the title company needs him to sign certain documents NOW and return them overnight in order to close tomorrow. And he doesn’t know anyone in Dallas to whom the documents could be shipped.
You think?
Or yeah — like Deron at the dump. He’s there, and he wants what he wants.
More likely than my scenario.
That’s plausible except no. If you had been there, you would have picked up on something akin to panic about the Todayness factor. I’ve been known to fight the shouldness fights myself, but all of my instincts tell me the guy really, really needs a P.O. box today.
So why does a guy need a P.O. box today, if it’s not for drugs? Is there any business transaction that must take place through the mail system? I’m thinking there is some plausible explanation out there that I simply don’t know, and by fucking god, I want to know it now.
Thank you in advance for your help and support.
Okay, Sheila, that’s getting somewhere. He didn’t seem to be a no fixed address kind of guy, but it’s still within the realm of possibility.
I should ask that writer guy, Daryl. This is the kind of thing he should know.
okay, the panic factor is key. I’m on it, but only subconsciously.
There you go.
Yeah, I’m seeing Deron at the dump. He would not be denied.
“This is where the road took us.”
Bought a new dildo for his collection–a must have–and his mom is staying with him this month.
Okay my mind is only seeing words that don’t make sense today.
Makes sense to me. A boy’s best friend is his mother, and he doesn’t want to upset his best friend.
But he really really really wants it now.
P.S. The staff’s explanation just struck me as bullshit. I have rented P.O. boxes time and again at various P.O.s, and any P.O. clerk can sign you up and issue you a key. Right then. Right there. Or so it seemed and so I recall.
This grows curiouser and curiouser.
I’ll say. Perhaps we have stumbled upon a deep, dark conspiracy.
People who buy drugs on the internet use P.O. Boxes. Enormous poppy pods, kratom, and twelve dozen different kinds of research chemicals can all be found online if one is willing to spend enough time looking for them. Many of the addictive ones have overnight shipping.
The kinds of people who use these services are A) pretty internet savvy and b) typically and intelligently looking to avoid real life interactions with drug dealers, whom they (correctly) perceive as dangerous and unreliable.
35 year old IT guy? Sounds like a match to me.
I’m with Deron on the shouldness of it all. My guess is, this clean, responsible citizen stood in line at the post office to get a P.O. box and expects that he should receive one upon arrival. Especially since he checked the inventory online in advance and, like Sheila said, this argument that a manager is the only one who can provide a key seems like …bullshit.
You want a toe? I can get you a toe, believe me. There are ways, Dude. You don’t wanna know about it, believe me.
Good point, Jesse. On occasion I receive risky substances from afar, but I order from known and trusted sources. I’ve also bought ‘ethnobotanicals’ and pharmaceuticals of dubious provenance over the internets. I’m careful. I weigh my risks and try to be sensible, then forget about it.
Maybe this guy was a virgin or an amateur.
Still seeing that look on Deron’s face when they gave us shit at the dump. Before I dumped my shit.
He needed it Today. Not tomorrow. Today. If he were buying drugs on the Internet, he would have gone to one of those non-USPS sites that rent boxes. Under these circumstances, if he was involved in something illegal, he was blatantly inviting a search by postal inspectors and risking, not just a drug bust, but a federal drug bust.
It was something else. And it wasn’t just rightness.
Deron, get me that toe. I think I’m gonna need it.
Amateurs.
And this guy didn’t have that Deron look. He had the usual soft pasty IT Guy look. He wasn’t out to win a fight. He was out to get a p.o. box.
Motherfucker. I’m going back to the post office and find out what happened.
“He needed it Today. Not tomorrow.” Additional song lyric.
I’m thinking this is a country song. Twangy.
Where’s Renner? We need Renner for the song.
Motherfucker indeed, Cindy. That changes everything. It wasn’t about principle. It wasn’t about pussy anything. Not exactly.
He needed a box.
Renner — well, assuming drunken sailors or cutthroats are not at this instant robbing him of his purse en route from the Fort Lauderdale train station to the Port of Fort Lauderdale . . . Renner is about to embark on a sea cruise. He will be incommunicado until he reaches the Mediterranean and embarks on dry land.
Then he may sing.
Well, it’s not like we need the song today. All we need today is the box.
Once I want something I want it NOW! I would have stood and argued over it even if I had no immediate use for it – want means NOW!
I want Gin
Phil has caused me to question my position.
He dreamed about that box. Saw some future alignment of the universe that would bring an object of fate spontaneoulsy into his possession by way of a suddenly arranged for receptacle. All the conflict involved was just further evidence that the payoff was on its way. What would it be? Fear of not being ready drives him, with so much having been missed already. He’s there now (if he prevailed), looking into the little window, trying the tiny key again and again and again.
This feels like an episode of This American Life.
I can be a pedantic fuck when confronted with a jobsworth. Mostly I am sweet and friendly – you know, like all us English.
Well, thank you, Daryl. That’s probably it–the guy is simply nuts. I mean, my god–he works with computers.
Phil, all I can say is, those bankers had better keep their opinions of your date of birth to themselves!
I love it when Phil says things like ‘jobsworth’. So damn English!
Cindy – we are one on 195* – keep ‘em guessing I say!
Sheila!
Phil, do you ever feel a yearning to commit a crime? In the States, say?
With a gun?
I dreamed last night that Daryl invited someone for dinner (that right there is pretty dreamy because he’d never do such a thing), but anyway, he invited this youngish guy and his wife, and the youngish guy had what looked like a tommy gun or some kind of semi-automatic weapon and somehow I got into a shootout with neighbors and took out, oh, a couple dozen of them. I was a surprisingly good shot, everyone thought so. Then we went to the back yard where we were going to eat, and the wife took a phone call and presumably the caller asked her if we were barbecuing and she told the person no, they were going to have to eat just vegetation.
That happens.
yeah
Cindy, was the couple in your dream Joseph and his wife, Ronya?
Well, I don’t think so. But I guess it could have been. I’ll let you know at CFSII.
Update: I mentioned this to a guy who works with me, and his immediate thought was that IT Guy didn’t need the box “today” for something to be delivered “today”–he needed to give the address to someone “today” who could overnight him something to arrive “tomorrow.” And there could be a million legitimate reasons for that.
God damn it.
[...] Cindy S.: I dreamed last night that Daryl invited someone for dinner (that right there is pretty dreamy because he’d never do such a thing), but anyway, he invited this youngish guy and his wife, and the youngish guy had what looked like a tommy gun or some kind of semi-automatic weapon and somehow I got into a shootout with neighbors and took out, oh, a couple dozen of them. I was a surprisingly good shot, everyone thought so. Then we went to the back yard where we were going to eat, and the wife took a phone call and presumably the caller asked her if we were barbecuing and she told the person no, they were going to have to eat just vegetation. posted by Deron Bauman in food, friends, from the comments, vegetables, war | * | 2 comments [...]