Saturday, September 23, 2006

Post Office Theater - The Matinee

my mom and i share a house and we have our own division of labor that works well for us. she does the yardwork and i balance the checkbook. she handles calling repair guys and i promise not to attempt to cook, thus not burning the house to the ground. she does most of the housework and i run most of errands, like grocery shopping, paying bills in person and going to the post office. now, i hate going to the post office, but i hate mopping even more, so it's the lesser of two evils for me. (speaking of which - mom, the entertainment center is looking a little dusty. get on that, would ya?)

so, this afternoon, i had to go to the post office to mail two packages for her. i walked in and saw a customer arguing with one of the clerks. now, there is nothing i love more than watching people make asses of themselves in public, so this put a little spring in my step. i got in line and this argument was already well under way, but i was able to catch up fairly quickly. the customer had purchased a few postal money orders and now decided he didn't need them after all and he wanted his money back. the woman at the counter told him he could get his money back, but that did not include the processing fee. that was nonrefundable.

he was FURIOUS! and outraged that they would not refund this fee. how much money was this guy out to incite such rage? would he not be able to make his rent this month? would the kiddos go to bed hungry tonight because daddy wouldn't have enough for the happy meal? those must be some steep fees.

then the clerk said, "sir, you can get all your money back, but the 95 cent processing fee is not refundable."

95 cents.

so, they go back and forth, and everyone in line is riveted by this asshole and his 95 cents. the argument escalates and the clerk threatened to call the authorities at one point. he backed down after that.

that's when the clerk asked if he lives in (insert name of my city). he said he did and she asked to see his ID. when he handed it over, she asked if the address was current. after he confirmed it was, she proceedes to write down his name and address.

i turned to the guy next to me in line and said, "he is never getting his mail EVER. AGAIN. in fact, i think he will be getting all of our junk mail from now on."

the downside to this little spectacle was the fact that mister 95 cents was hispanic. i am mexican-american and was raised in the mexican culture. so, when i see hispanics acting like ignorant fools i just cringe and think, "you are making the rest of us look bad, asshole." then i figure they are probably puerto rican. and don't anybody jump my ass for that last comment. in the hispanic cultures, the brazillians look down on the mexicans, the mexicans look down on the puerto ricans and the puerto ricans look down on the salvadoreans. it's just the way it is.

on a side note, i took this pic outside the post office.


nothing had been freshly painted, certainly not the goddamned window. why was this sign there? it is still bugging me.