New York City post office

Ugh. I just received the pink slip of death. It's the notice saying I missed a package the post office tried to deliver, so now I have to go pick it up in person. I'd think I'd rather eat a bad bean burrito and then ride the subway for two hours.

What's that you say? I should have it redelivered? That's a great idea--only that doesn't work in New York City. Every time I've rescheduled a post office delivery online, it sends me a confirmation e-mail showing the new delivery date....only....the package never comes. You see, my postman doesn't WANT to redeliver it, therefore he doesn't. It's a simple as that.

Going to our local post office branch is quite the experience. When you walk in, you are immediately greeted by a long line of people with screaming babies and adults with death looks on their faces. Every counter is secured with what appears to be bullet-proof glass, and each post office worker looks like they've made it their mission to consume 10,000 calories a day. And if you thought the customer's faces were bad, just look at the workers who look like they're secretly plotting all the ways they'd like to kill you.

Then you wait in line, and realize even though there are five or so workers behind the counters, only the most obese one is actually helping customers, so the wait is at least 20 minutes. Your heart races at the sheer frustration of it all, and you start secretly plotting all the ways you'd like to get behind that bullet-proof glass.

When it's finally your turn, you show the worker your pink slip of death, which is greeted by an audible sigh and a roll of the eyes. They then slowly waddle to the back room to find your package, and stay there for at least another 20 minutes. Surely your package is not in New Jersey, is it?

The worker then waddles back and says your package is no where to be found. She instructs you to move down to window #8 and when you do, you realize no one is working at window #8. You've just been punked.

You look down at your pink slip and read the words, "Sorry We Missed You," knowing that's really only mocking you, because they are not sorry at all.

Another 10 minutes or so, and another disgruntled waddler shuffles to window #8 and takes your pink slip again. She then spends another 10 minutes in the back room and when she has nearly given up, voila, she realizes the package was on the first shelf she checked. Oops. She then lifts her side of the bullet-proof glass and places your package on the counter which can only be accessed after she has closed her side....I suppose so you're not able to slip a gun underneath.

As you walk away, you're pretty sure she is giving you the middle finger.

Oh, and did I mention the UPS and FedEx guys are always nice, and will gladly run up four flights of stairs to deliver packages? Our postman would surely die if he tried that, either from a heart attack or after tripping over his baggy pants.

And you wonder why the post office is going broke....