Mrs. HM's Quest To Grab Her Package

Thursday was errand day. Meaning gas for T-Hoe, a trip to the bank, and mailing Genius's weekly letter with enclosed scratchers that I still needed to buy. AND picking up the package that the mailperson couldn't leave on Wednesday, despite scanning it to show DELIVERED.

I had every intention of stopping by the dead-mouse-smelling post office in Hillmomba, before moving on to Sis-Town and the main post office for further inquiry if needed. However... rain was pouring down as I approached the DMS PO. I had no desire to get drenched with four stops still to make. Besides, every time I'd tried to grab my package there in the past, I was rebuffed! Told to go do that over at the main post office. So I made the logical decision to continue past the DMS PO.

I got the tickets for Genius at the School-Turn Casey's on my way. It's only about a mile from Sis-Town. I parked under the overhang at the main post office, and went inside with my orange notice slip for my package.

A new guy was behind the counter. He looked about 18 years old! He was wearing regular street clothes. An older lady was working at the other end of the counter, perhaps supervising him. Or perhaps she'd been called down to deal with the customer ahead of me, who was having a problem with HER package. Older Lady called Irritated Customer over, leaving me to do business with New Guy. I couldn't help overhear the issue.

"For some reason, my mail carrier keeps leaving my packages at the house across the street. I don't know why. Our address is clearly on the packages I get. But they show delivered, and I don't have them. I can't get them from the lady across the street, because she won't answer her door. She keeps my packages!"

I don't know how that issue was going to be resolved. It's not like the carrier can force that neighbor to open her door, and surrender the misdelivered packages.

Anyhoo... I gave New Guy my slip, and asked if he would check my package.

"Where do you live?"

"Hillmomba."

"Have you tried that post office?"

"No. Because in the past, they've always told me to come here, and that's where my package was."

"Oh. Well. I guess I can check."

He disappeared into the back room, and returned shortly. 

"No. It isn't here."

"Could you call over to Hillmomba's post office, to see if it's there? Because if it isn't, I'll need to deal with it here, and I'll have wasted a trip, and you'll be closed by then."

"Oh. Well. I guess I can."

New Guy went over to the wall beside Older Lady, and got out his cell phone, and typed in the number of the DMS PO. He identified himself, and asked about my package, using the address. 

"It's over there. She will be there until 4:00."

"Okay. I don't think I'll have time. I have other errands. But thank you for finding out. I can always get it tomorrow."

Off I went to the bank, where I was the only customer! I had fast service for once. Then I doubled back, to the Sis-Town Casey's, for T-Hoe's gas. $4.11 per gallon! That's highway robbery! At least my regular pump was open. And I was next in line when I went in to pre-pay. So it didn't take too long. I thought I just might make it over to the DMS PO.

In fact, it was 3:56 when I pulled into their lot. I was going the wrong direction to park in front, on the street. I stopped next to the handicap ramp-maze and got out. Normally, I pull to the other side of the lot, into a normal parking space. But the sky was purple, and with only four minutes of business hours left, I figured I'd treat myself to a closer spot.

Of course some weird little man in an orange shirt came out of the loading dock area, and gave me a frown. Too bad, so sad, weird little man! Because I didn't have time to move. He walked around T-Hoe as I ducked my head against the just-starting rain, and looked out on the street. Maybe he was waiting for a ride.

Inside, the lady at the counter saw me coming. She was gripping my package!

"Are you here for your package?"

"Yes! Thank you! I was afraid I wouldn't make it on time!"

"Your package is so small! I don't know WHY the carrier said it wouldn't fit in the box."

"Maybe all the lockers were taken by bigger packages."

"Still, it should fit into a regular mailbox."

"Well, ours is made from a section of metal pipe. So maybe not. I hear that all the mail people hate it! From my son, who works for the post office."

"Oh, I remember my days as a carrier. Yes, we do get upset about some of the mailboxes."

"Well, thank you for having it ready. It's usually over at the main post office when I stop by here to ask about my package."

I went back out, gripping my packages, as she pulled down the metal accordion-like closure for her counter.

Friday, I was back over there at the DMS PO. After closing time. Just to mail two bills inside, to thwart any would-be mail-stealers who wanted to forge my checks. On the glass panel beside the outer door, I saw a notice in a clear sleeve taped to the glass:

All packages for HILLMOMBA ZIP CODE should be picked up at the Main Post Office, unless you receive a Notice 3849 from your carrier.

Good to know. At least it proves I am NOT crazy! That indeed, most packages are taken back to the main post office. Including those when the little orange postcard is left. Because I imagine that's a different form number than the slip I had this time.