Recently, while waiting for an elevator on the mail run I was covering, a woman complained to me about how management was circling around her area and nitpicking on everything. She then eyed me and my cart, adding,
"You must be so peaceful right now. Just doing your thing - nobody bothering you."
Not really. I was sweaty, exhausted, and about thirty minutes behind - in part, because every time I left the room someone would stop me to inquire about this package or that envelope or want to buy stamps. People are often under the mistaken impression that those of us who push mail carts and haul boxes don't have to deal with other humans. If that were true, I would be much happier about lifting cases of paper and dealing with unruly carts.
So this, if you want to know, is what the mail girl/guys in your office are probably thinking:
What We Say
What We Think
Do you have a tracking number?
Okay, I'm going to need a LITTLE bit more description than "a medium-sized box arriving for me, or maybe somebody else in my department sometime this week," dumb shit.
We don't sell stamps. [listens to whiny protest] I'm sorry, we just don't.
Am I wearing a dorky-looking blue outfit and hat? Is this a government office? No? Then, fuck off.
Yes, it is heavy.
Congratulations on winning the Most Obvious Statement of the Quarter award. See the bulging veins in my temples? Now, could you at least hold the door for me, you lazy prick?
Sure, I'll bring it to you right now.
God forbid you wait 20 minutes for the mail run, princess.
Hahahahahahaha, no, there's not a bomb in there.
Wow, I haven't heard that joke since, like, the second floor!
I'm not sure what it is.
Do I look like I know, or care, what you ordered? Perhaps you got high and had your Dildo of the Month shipped to your job -anyone dumb enough to forget placing an order would probably be capable of that, too.
Okay, I'll keep an eye out for it.
Yes, my life's mission will be finding your "very important shipment," along with all the other 99 "very important shipments" I got calls about today.
I'm calling to let you know that you have a pallet of boxes down on the dock...No, we don't break those down.
Hahaaaaa, not my problem, bitch!
That's the soonest it will get there.
Here's an idea: don't wait until 4:45 on Thursday to try to ship a box to
I will let you know as soon as I find your package.
That's what she said.
There's more to it than you'd think.
Oh really, you want my job? Because you think it's easy? Because you think I'm dumb and unworthy of your exalted call center job? Sure, we'll trade places. I'll sit in my ass all day and whine about stupid shit like how bad the vending machines are. YOU can cut your pay in half and run around the building with carts stacked taller than you are with heavy ass boxes.