Through the Eyes of a Delivery Goddess |
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I don't ever intend to make light of folks who are a bit out of touch or challenged in any way, but if I find a story I think you'll find amusing, even if it SEEMS I'm poking fun, I hope you can just enjoy the story as seen from a delivery person's perspective... "It takes all kinds"... That said: We have a paper customer that tends to complain often. Most of you know, carriers buy their own bags, so if someone has a paper box (or tube), we try to use the tube and save the bags. Occasionally, there is a customer who insists that you use a bag AND put it in the tube, without realizing that it costs us more money, and slows us down fighting with the bag to get it in the tube quickly. I don't know if you've ever been awake at night to watch the paperboys at work, but most do not slow down at a mailbox - at best, they're still moving in second gear, about 8 - 10 mph, and have perfected their accuracy at that speed. A bag usually catches on the edge of the tube, which means you've broken your rhythm and must stop, back up, and pick the paper up off of the ground. My first experience with someone who insisted on both was over ten years ago when I had a News Record route. My step son now has this lady on his Post Gazette route. One DRY summer day, this woman in her late fifties came bouncing down the front yard waving her arms as I approached her mailbox. I stopped to see what she had to say - usually someone is going on vacation or something like that, and is more confident about their paper stopping if they talk to someone in person. No, not this time. She was stern in her words, saying, "Look, lady, you MUST bag my paper before you put it in the box. It gets wet." I confronted her with, "It's not raining, it doesn't get wet on dry days". She argued back, "What if it falls out of the box?" Again I said, "It's a dry day, there's no reason it would be getting wet, and typically, if it falls out, I feel it before I pull away, back up, and put it in the box again." She has a very nice front yard, it slopes gently down from the house right to the edge of the road - it's fairly flat from right to left, no rolling hills or banks. It appeared the yard was well-kept, plush green and neatly cut. She stomped her foot and pointed harshly with one hand, "AND WHAT IF IT FALLS IN THE SEWER??" I looked down along the edge of the road at where the grass met the berm. There is no sewer, no rut, not even a divet. The yard met perfectly and smoothly with the edge of the road. At this point, I backed up a bit and got out of my car to look at what she was pointing at. I said, "I'm sorry, ma'am ... but there's no sewer there - just grass." She said, pointing again and again, "THERE - THERE ... R -I - G - H - T THERE." Again I looked down at the grass - ... nothing. Just grass. I walked up and down along the edge for about a fifteen foot length and said, "I'm sorry, but there isn't even a small rut showing any run-off. I mean, I can bag the paper, I guess, but you really don't have a sewer here to worry about." She looked really frustrated with me and shouted, "Don't tell ME I don't have a sewer there, I've fallen in." OK - I'm not touching that one. I said, "I'm sorry to hear that" while I hurried into the car. As I drove away, I said, "I'll bag it from now on...." When I looked in the mirror on the driver's door, I could see her still standing there waving her arms. Obviously, she was not done showing me the stealth sewer. I was afraid if I stuck around, she'd try to show me how she fell in, and I'd have to pick her up off of the ground. Just to prove that things get better with age, she called our house about six months ago, claiming that my step-son had run over her mailbox and it was in pieces all over her yard. Before Bob left home, we assumed the snow plow had run it over, but because we're good people, he went over to see what she had to say. She was angry about us not coming over to fix the mailbox on our own. Bob felt that the mailbox was just old and the wood had rotted away, but didn't bother really telling her, since we know she doesn't see things the same way that we do. He just said he'd have to get a new piece of wood, he'd be back. He generously replaced the platform that her mailbox attatched to, and re-attatched it to the post. She finally offered him $20 to pay for the wood, and her entire mood changed. We still don't believe that Chad hit her maibox, and chad doesn't remember hitting her mailbox, so obviously, she just needed it replaced. It takes all kinds......... |