Adventures at the post office

I just got back from the post office.

Every time I go there, I find myself getting pissed off. Then I think “That’s it. I’m blogging about this to get it off my chest once and for all.” But, by the time I leave, I am about to go crazy and I just KNOW that my post would resemble this:

“Stupid ass cocknobblers who stand in line at the post office who don’t know shit and i want to kick with steel toed boots for messing up my afternoon and making me wait.”

And that’s just not very good reading material, is it? You see, the post office should run smoothly. People walk in. Hand the packages to the person behind the counter. Hand money over and leave.

But, for some reason, people ignore the most important sign in the entire damn building: Please have all items ready before going to the counter.

That means, dumbshit, that you should have your addresses labeled, boxes closed, numbers written down and shit put in it’s envelopes. Waiting till you get to the counter is NOT the thing to do.

There is this woman, who I am going to call The Blue Hippo, who seemed to have missed the sign. I’m not sure what she was doing, but I doubt it had ANYTHING to do with mail. She had to look up numbers in her cell phone. Write shit down. Think and rethink. All the while I’m sitting there, wanting to take the pole the “announcement” is written on and beat her over the head with it.

I sigh. I make noises. I feign death. The Blue Hippo stands her hippo ass there and continues to be stupid. I think I beat her out of there and she was about 10 people ahead of me.

Then there are the kids. Do parents not have conversations with their children such as “If you run around, make noises, scream, annoy people or carry on, I’m going to sell you to a bunch of Hungarian Gypsies who will turn you into slave labor” anymore? Obviously not, because the little dynamos run all over the damn place.

And they think they’re cute. I usually give them “Go to Hell” looks. The children act shocked.

Tell your damn children to sit on the floor next to you and shut up. Because I can’t deal with all this overstimulation. Blue Hippo, crazy children, people who never speak English but feel they must try to learn how to do so at the very moment they get to the counter.

And let’s not forget the hair. WHERE THE HELL DO THESE PEOPLE GET THEIR HAIR DONE? It’s all a very very bad Cosmo Don’t. You just don’t go out into public with hair that looks like you 1. Wrapped a black poodle around your head 2. decided to style in the dark or 3. forgot to bathe for the past year.

Look, if this place can make Ned Flanders go mad, what do you think it’s doing to MOI???


  1. That’s why they call it “Going Postal"!!

    Comment by Brent — 5/6/2004 @ 8:19 pm

  2. yeah…so i was in walmart yesterday…(yeah I’m sure that was the first mistake). The cashier must have decided to grow out her hair and no longer dye it…b/c she had longer hair and half of it was hay blonde and the other dark brown. I was seriously considering going to the walmart salon and giving them 20 bucks to fix her hair…I mean it was at the end of the lane…JUST FIX YOUR NASTY HAIR WOMAN

    Comment by ands — 5/6/2004 @ 10:52 pm

  3. Never under estimate the incompetence of others….
    Thats all I can say about the post office…

    Comment by David — 5/7/2004 @ 12:26 am

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