As a little kid, I always revered the mailman.
The unofficial motto was always, “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds”.
Somehow… no matter what the weather… or what was happening in the world around you… one thing was constant – you’d get your mail.
And yes – it was socially acceptable back then to call them “mailmen”. The PC Police hadn’t formed their social media lynch mob yet.
But those days are long gone. Perhaps it’s time for the United States Postal Service to go the way of Blockbuster. Let us remember them for what they were…. not what they became.
After all, how long can you run a company operating with billions of dollars of debt a year?
For a while, we just thought we had a lousy postal worker at our house.
We’d watch on our security cameras as packages marked “fragile” were literally thrown onto the porch.
We’d see boxes delivered in the pouring rain and left unwrapped outside the garage… only to become soaked and wrecked.
We’d open the mailbox and see large envelopes filled with pictures marked “do not fold” shoved into the box, folded two or three times over to make it fit.
You ever try and call your post office? Ha! Good luck with that. There’s no way to reach them – and that’s by design. You get dumped into a national hotline where the only real people aren’t answering the phone… because they’re busy chucking packages marked “fragile” across your driveway while laughing like jolly ole’ Saint Nick.
And so we’d go to the post office and complain. We’d show them the pictures. We’d let them watch the security video. And with a twinkle in their eye, they’d always respond “oh, we’ll talk to him about that.”
More like laugh together over beers while swapping postal war stories.
Then it started happening at our office, five cities away. Our company is located on the third floor in an office building, and the postal workers decided they didn’t want to carry stuff upstairs. Instead, they’d leave a note in the mailbox downstairs saying that the package didn’t fit in the mailbox.
The same mailbox with a note on it saying any packages should be delivered to the third floor.
When we went to the post office to complain about it, we were told that the postal worker “doesn’t do stairs”. Or apparently freight elevators.
We were told we’d have to start coming to the post office if we wanted our packages.
Oh! You don’t do stairs? What’s next? The local police department responding to 911 calls saying “sorry, we can’t help you out if you’re on the third floor”?
After a lot of complaining from us, they apparently came up with a solution.
They just started leaving packages outside the building on the side of the road.
Who cares that anyone driving by could stop and take them, right? They were “delivered”! Ho ho ho – Merry Christmas to passing drivers in need of a gift!
Remember when the mailman wore a USPS uniform? Not these delivery drivers. Beat up jeans and hoodies. Sometimes I’m not sure whether my postal worker is there to ask me for $1 for “coffee” or laugh while driving away with my package.
Then there were the piles of checks that would just be left outside of the mailboxes for us and our tenants. Checks. Why? Because the seasonal help didn’t have a key.
Back to the post office to complain.
“What do you want us to do, sir? Do you want to have to come here to get your checks?”
And there it was. That twinkle in the eye again. The smirk… knowing there was nothing I could do.
“If it’s that bad, why don’t you try calling the 1-800 number and complain about us?”
Kyle S. Reyes is the National Spokesman for Law Enforcement Today, founder of The Whiskey Patriots and Chief Executive Officer of The Silent Partner Marketing. Reyes is also an acclaimed keynote speaker on patriotism and leadership, entrepreneurship and marketing by storytelling. You can follow him on Facebook.