Possibly the dullest place in town
The Post Office should be a lovely friendly place. A place to drop off a letter to a distant relative, to send a birthday card to a friend, or perhaps to simply send a parcel. Most of the time you will end up being served by an old lady or gentleman who would most likely remind you of your grandparents.
Sadly due to huge cost cutting measures over the years most Post Offices have now insisted on becoming much more than what they originally were. They now sell Insurance, Credit Cards, Personal Loads, Travel Insurance and so much more that it’s enough to make you realise how hard times have hit them.
I had exactly 20 minutes during my lunchtime to send off two parcels - two Xbox 360 titles, which I had sold to some gamers. Whenever I visit this particular Post Office, there is always a queue a mile bloody long extending out into the street - all being served by two cashiers who look like they’ve been spoon-fed lead. Now this is what happens when your once superb Post Office service because a ‘Do it all’ service.
After 10 minutes, I’m no where near the front of the queue and I am gradually getting pissed as it were. This branch now has a TV! To stop customers from rioting, they’ve brought in a TV, which shows ‘funny’ adverts - sadly these are Royal Mail based ads and they just infuriate customers even more.
I eventually work my way to the front of the queue with exactly 8 minutes to spare. I figured it would take me 5 minutes to make it back to the office - if I sprint like an illegal immigrant running after a train. I approach the counter and go through the motions of weighing my parcel and asking for First Class delivery, which is where my rant begins.
Me: "I’d like to send both by first class please love"
Female Cashier: "Sir, would you like it guaranteed by tomorrow? If so you can <cutoff>"
Me: "First class will do thanks"
Female Cashier: "Ok sir, I just wanted to say that your parcel can reach there quicker if you <cutoff>"
Me: "I just need first class for these parcels as I know they’ll reach their intended destination by the end of the week"
Female Cashier: "Ok sir, do you have a credit card?"
Me: "Uhm, I’m paying by cash"
Female Cashier: "Sir, may I interest you in a Post Office credit card? I’ll just go and get a form hold on!"
I turn around and look at the queue with a ‘wtf’ look on my face. They all seem to have been through this ritual before from the looks I received.
Female Cashier: "Ah, now sir as you can see our rates are very low"
Me: "I have about 5 minutes to get back to my office, I just want to pay for my parcels and leave"
Female Cashier: "This form will take just 2 minutes sir"
Me: "How can I kindly state that I do not wish to have yet another credit card as I have three!"
Female Cashier: "Would sir wish to come back after work hours? I can arrange for someone to stay behind after 4pm?"
At this point I decide why not? Just to annoy the hell out of them I’ll pretend that I am interested but simply not go.
Me: "Hmm tell you what, how will Friday evening do? I finish work at 16:00 hours"
Female Cashier: "What time is that sir?"
Me: "Er, 4pm…"
Female Cashier: "Great! Why thank you so much for your time. Here’s your form and I myself will stay behind on Friday to give you advice about our new wonderful card"
Me: "Righto! See you on Friday!" <I grab form and leave>
Now I know this little lady was doing her job and it isn’t her fault that she was trained to irritate the arse out of customers - a key thing that no business should do at all, but it’s hard not to simply let anger take over at a certain point. It’s the Post Office pen pushers at HQ to blame for this fiasco. All they’re doing is creating escalating queues and thus angered customers. They should know that a lot of customers who visit the post office during their lunchbreak and only have limited time to do so, so we don’t have half a bloody day to talk to cashiers whilst people in the queue behind me begin to rapidly age and decompose.
Come 4pm Friday I’m going to walk past the post office and casually glance inside before getting on the bus. Waste my time, I waste yours.
