(A very old term of endearment for a rambunctious male toddler from the low German dialect spoken by Mennonites. Also what my grandmother sometimes called me—amazing what you remember when writing your memoir.)
I wanted to let you know a small package may be coming your way. Or not. I went POSTAL at the post office this week, a big No No.
I bought one of their sturdy little boxes about the size of a VCR cassette tape, took it home, put some homemade goodies inside and brought it back for mailing. Ten bucks postage she wanted!
“I’m sorry but it weighs more than a pound,” the lady said. “You should have gotten one of our Flat Rate boxes.” She said they were a half-inch shorter but only cost five dollars to ship.
“You leave your expensive ($3.29) boxes out here for patrons to serve themselves, and keep the Flat Rate boxes over there behind the counter and they look just the same,” I exclaimed. “It’s no wonder you’re going out of business. I could have shipped it FedEx for less.”
I more or less accused the post office of deceptive practices. She said I could send it parcel post for only $8.60, but it would not arrive until Tuesday, the day after Valentine’s Day (if at all I was thinking), so I sent it parcel post saving a whole buck-forty.
And then there’s the price of the enclosed card. Anyway, just wanted to let you know and say thanks for your e-mailed Valentine.
(My nickname as a small child—some memories are better forgotten.)
What do you think, dear reader, about the U.S. Postal service, time to give it up?