A Letter from Our Local Post Office

(Post #2 of 32)

Today we received a letter from the local branch of the USPS about The Beej; in the letter they accused him of keeping our local letter carrier from his appointed rounds.

In the letter they implied that, between the hours of 8am and 5pm, The Beej was threatening the postal worker.

Seriously.

Does the above dog look like an animal that would threaten anyone? And besides that, The Beej is a kenneled dog while we are at work. Between the hours of 8am and 5pm.

If that were the end of it, I probably wouldn’t care. Much. But, they want us to sign a letter stating, in short, that we understand that this is strike one of three (after three strikes, they can permanently stop delivering your mail and/or have your dog put down).

And, until we sign and return said letter, our mail will not be delivered.

No due process. No hearings. Just guilt.

And that’s what really pisses me off.

In this day and age of banned breeds, violent breeds, dog fighting, and dog attacks, this is an unfair attack on my buddy. On my best friend.

I fear that if I complain too loudly, they may see me as a troublemaker and use that as an excuse to clamp down harder on The Beej.

If I do nothing and go along, they might assume I’m a push over and want to make an example of The Beej.

There are a number of large breed dogs that escape their outdoor confines on a daily basis in our neighborhood, but no one is threatening their owners with killing their dogs and/or expulsion from the postal system.

And truthfully, I wouldn’t care if they told me I couldn’t use the USPS anymore; except they are the only game in town. Which is why they can be rude, surly, and inconsiderate when you visit their places of business to give them money.

Do I ever complain about this piss poor service from a former governmental bureaucracy?

Until now, no.

But you better believe that from here on in, for every mail carrier who doesn’t put my mail properly in the slot, their local Postmaster will hear about it.

Every time I’m greeted with a surly attitude at the counter, I’ll let powers that be know.

When a package arrives torn, bent, mangled, or otherwise in poorer condition than when it was sent, I will complain.

I will be the thorn in their side.

To quote Peter Finch, I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore.



On a positive note, how about those Rockies?!? A 9 to 8 victory after thirteen innings! And I don't particularly like baseball!