A Tale Of Two Post Offices

I have the good fortune to live close to two small post offices, and to work close to a major postal facility and FedEx and UPS stores in northwest DC.

Two of the three P.O.s are great; always somebody at the counter, always helpful. The big city operation is great, though always crowded. It even does passports, with a smile.

When there are problems at the two "good" offices they are often customer-caused. Like somebody wanting to mail a bathtub to Armenia.

So, I've got two good offices, one in the burbs, one in the city, and one not-so-good office. Friday morning I had to stop (at the not-so-good office) to buy three mailers. I wanted to send two books to Richmond, Virginia and one to Lewes, Delaware. Although Virginia and Delaware are historic names, the Postal Service, for brevity and to save ink on postmarks knows them simply as VA and DE.

I can live with that, even though it takes some thought to distinguish MA from MS from MI from MT and ME and MO, all of which, I think used to be states of the union. As did CA and CO.

Lest you think this is an anti-postal worker tirade, be advised that my favorite Uncle was a rural letter carrier, one of my favorite sons-in-law is a postal employee, and the old Post Office Department was my mail delivery lifeline to radio-serial offers, like Captain Midnight Ovaltine shake-up mugs and decoder rings, and Buck Rogers glow-in-the-dark rings.

But the bottom line is that the staff at two of the post offices is great, while the staff at the not-so-good-office is, well, not so good. The staff at my not-so-favorite office isn't always around. You can sometimes hear life-like sounds in the back, but no bodies to go with them. I suppose somebody could steal them blind, but there isn't much market for change of address forms.

But that's okay.

The problem, several times, at this office is either attitude or, uh, a basic lack of knowledge.

I buy the three book mailers. The clerk (your guess whether it was male or female) charges $4 and change. Fine. Then I ask him/her if s/he could weigh the books and each packet so I will have an idea of what it will cost to mail same. He/she says "what's the ZIP code?"

Now I gotta tell you, I love ZIP codes as well as the next person. Maybe more. I know not only my 5-digit ZIP, but also the 4 additional numbers that, I think, pinpoint me like a GPS. I understand the need for ZIP codes, although the Canadian variety doesn't make much sense.

I know the multiplication tables (up to 9 x 9), know the capitals of the states, I know about Marco Polo (the guy, not the game), I know the combatants in World War I (and who won) and why they stormed the Bastille. Like most of us, I know a bunch of things. But the ZIP code for Lewes DE (formerly Delaware) and Richmond VA (named Virginia back in 1607 for, I think, the movie star Virginia Mayo) I don't know. I know you can look it up. But the ZIP code directory is so bulky I seldom carry it.

It was me and the clerk. And he/she insisted the pricing couldn't be done until I found the precise ZIP code. It would have been helpful if he/she had cut me some slack. I mean I'm a card-carrying member of the American Legion. Just tell me how much it would be to those states which are really, really close to the PO from whence I tried, but failed, to mail the packages.

I realize it was my job to come up with the ZIP codes. But at that moment, with no other customers, I didn't know them. Just wanted a ballpark estimate.

So, while I prefer to do business with the USPS, this time I took the the books to FedEx. The clerk knew exactly where, and what, VA and DE are and looked up the ZIP codes for me.

Interesting...

Your thoughts? mcausey@federalnewsradio.com