2 windows open and 6 closed!! WTF is going on. This is the MAIN P.O. fer chrissakes, slap in the town centre.
People in a line,me included, wanting to mail packages to distant climes and such and the majority of the windows are closed and it’s not even 0930.
One of the women at the open window spent ages gassing about all manner of trivialities…“Hurry up you stupid twat, there’s a frigging queue here”
Coupled with this fisco there is a bloke behind me coughing and spluttering all the sodding time. Snot, mucus the whole bag of tricks…fucking hell!
Never covered his mouth or nose, just spread his frigging microbes all over the gaff and occasionally dragged a filthy rag out of his pocket to wipe his conk, examine the contents and then fold it neatly and put it in his top pocket.
I waited 10 minutes and then fucked off, I’ll more than likely have some incurable disease in the next week or so.
Just like our local main office. I’ve been in there all different times of the day and it never fails, there will be a line out the door and 2 of 8 windows actually open. I often wonder why they even have eight windows, since I’ve never EVER seen more than 2 employees staffing that place, no matter how many people are in line.
At least in the US you can print the shipping label online. Can you do that in England?
Although the last time I did that, I still had to take it to the counter because it was an international package and too big for the drop-off bin. And the postal worker did not know how to measure the size of the package! I argued with two postal workers before I could talk to their boss, who (unlike the other two) agreed with me that “length” is the longest dimension of the box, and “girth” is the other two dimensions added and multiplied by 2. He measured it correctly and it was 1" below the limit, which I knew from the start because I’d modified the box to fit the limit.
I remember standing in a line of maybe 10-12 people at the post office, with three windows open – and then about 10 more people joining the line, at which point two of the three clerks closed their windows and went to lunch! :eek:
“Common sense” and “post office” in the same sentence do not compute.
My local PO recently installed a giant machine that weighs your box, detects its dimensions, and prints a shipping label for you automatically. Then you can just slap the label on, drop it in the big bin beside it, and go.
Nobody uses the damn thing except for me, though. Fine with me. Go wait on line, dumbasses!
scr4 As far as I know there is no such facility available in the UK.
No, we have to queue, have it weighed, pay the postage and if it’s for overseas delivery sign a customs declaration form stating what is in the package, load of bollocks and all time consuming
I used to dread going to the post office b/c of the reasons described in this thread. In addition, I had to get off work early to make a trip in order to beat the doors closing at 5:00.
But now they stay open until 8:00 every weekday (I’m talking counter help, not just access to the boxes), and they are open Saturday mornings. There are usually at least 3 of the 5 counters staffed, and they open a special lane for those just wanting stamps or to pick up mail.
And if the line gets long, someone will come out of the back and go to each person in the line to see what they need. This saves a lot of time, as people can start filling out forms and such while in line, instead of waiting until they get to the counter and then take 15 minutes getting their shit together.
It just amazes me the transformation that has taken place at my local PO in the last year.
I went to the local Post Office to mail a package to Italy. He was telling me how important it was for it to be clearly, redundantly marked, implying that the foreign postal services were all rather badly organized, and it was likely to end up in the wrong place otherwise.
Then he stepped back, looked at the ceiling, sighed, and said “If we’re the best in the world, man, I don’t know…”
I thought of this three weeks later, when the package arrived at it’s destination - after being routed to France by mistake, back to the US, and then to Italy.
I went to the local Post Office to mail a package to Italy. The postal worker was telling me how important it was for it to be clearly, redundantly marked, implying that the foreign postal services were all rather badly organized, and it was likely to end up in the wrong place otherwise.
Then he stepped back, looked at the ceiling, sighed, and said “If we’re the best in the world, man, I don’t know…”
I thought of this three weeks later, when the package arrived at it’s destination - after being routed to France by mistake, back to the US, and then to Italy.
Wow. What a bunch of entitled assholes. You know how much it would cost to mail a package if the service was like in a fine restaurant? If every window was staffed so assholes like you guys wouldn’t have to wait in a fucking line in Defuckingcember? You get what you pay for–what you insist on not paying for–so have some sympathy for the wage slaves who have to deal with a thousand of you fuckers a day. I’d go on a killing spree too if every customer I dealt with was like chowder.
Pull your heads out of your asses, and next year mail you shit in November.
I also loved getting the notice that the USPS “tried” to deliver a box of books I ordered from Amazon, but since no one was home (even though I was there & my dogs would have barked at anyone coming up on the porch even IF for some reason, the bell decided not to ring for them), they were holding it at the post office for my pick-up. Now, I get to drive past the Barnes & Noble book store to go to the post office to get the box of books I ordered so that they would be more easily delivered to my home. Gotta love the USPS.
What is it about Post Offices? Is there some sort of International Post Office Society of Arseholery that we don’t know about?
Worse than having two windows open and six closed, in my view, is having eight Post Office ‘workers’ behind the counter, three of whom are serving while the other five are assiduously ignoring the ever lengthening queue as it wends its way out of the PO and into the street. And a ninth wandering around, restocking the shelves.
They can afford to treat us like crap since there’s no alternative.