How can our mail continually be misdirected in the year 2020, in a civilized society, where every person, every vehicle, and every piece of information is tracked 24/7/365?
Yeah. What are the odds?
Just this week, I got a letter returned that I had mailed to The Pony in Oklahoma, the address he's been at for 3 years. The letter was postmarked April 9. So at least 3 weeks, it's been missing in action. Now it's returned as undeliverable. MY AMPLE RUMPUS!
Oh, and Tuesday night, we got a call from a lady who lives down at the bottom of our gravel hill. Just past the barn where Marley bit the neighbor when Farmer H gave him a piece that had fallen off his tractor. As the lady said in the message, "A package was left on our porch. We've gotten your diabetic supplies before." This was not diabetic supplies, but a package for The Pony, return address from his college.
Actually, the address was CCP-OU. So I sent him an email (don't even suggest that my new used iPhone would have sent a text) joking that it must be from the communist party of OU. Heh, heh. Here's the actual reply from The Pony:
"CCP? Weird. The only thing that should've been sent to you guys was a
graduation thing that I wasn't sure would come in here in time. The
communist thing at OU is a different name, one of my friends was the
head of it and I'm not even remotely involved."
The more you know...
Anyhoo... I might as well live on Gilligan's Island in the middle of the Pacific, surrounded by an added moat full of gnashing alligators, with archers in parapets, and a cloaking mechanism that blocks my location.
How hard can it be to follow the EXACT directions that were written on that package? And not leave out a left turn onto a street that is labeled with a sign?
4 comments:
We get somebody else's mail--and other people get our mail--all the time. It's crazy. I know the tests postal workers have to pass. It's not a "breathe on the mirror" test.
(And Farmer H has lost his "cool" status, since he used the term "strapping." That phrase is definitely NOT cool.)
Sioux,
I've taken a few of those merit system post office tests myself. It primarily consist of sorting numbers in order. And discerning St. from Ave. Dyslexics need not apply for a delivery job. I think setting The Pony's package (heh, heh, I said THE PONY'S PACKAGE) on the wrong porch had to be UPS or FedEx. I'm betting FedEx. They're the greater of two evils.
Farmer H is feeling his oldness, methinks. So he referred to the young men as "strapping." He's never quite gotten over his PopArm. After that, his overall strength started to decline anyway. He bemoans that fact almost weekly.
Don't get me started. I've been sitting home all day every day for a week now, waiting for three deliveries, I don't dare leave the house in case they drop by while I'm out and leave a note saying your package has been returned to the depot. There's been no walking exercise, so when I start again, it will be shuffle and limp just like on day one.
River,
I hate it when that happens! There have been special packages for which I've waited (so Jack didn't chew them up like Genius's monogrammed bison leather wallet with RFID from Sharper Image). It's maddening when they don't arrive on time.
I hope yours get there soon, so you can resume your routine.
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