I would like to know the process as to how Disney Land was dubbed the happiest place on Earth because I want to dub somewhere the unhappiest place on earth- and that place would be the United States Postal Office.
Now, I have been to loads of post offices, I mean buckets of them, throughout my life (I threw up a whole bag of gummy bears there that I had not eaten but inhaled there once when I was a toddler) and each one is essentially the same. This post is not to attack the post offices of our great nation but it is merely my observation about them. I am curious to figure out exactly why it seems that once everyone inside the posts office is so unhappy. It is like a dark cloud of misery looms over their heads and they have no choice but to act similar to the Grinch (pre roast beast and Cindy Lou Who).
I had the idea for this post because I recently visited my first New York post office and boy was it a trip. First off, until about a week ago I had no idea that the gigantic building down the street was even a post office on account of that it looks similar to what I imagine the CIA building to be or a monument erected somewhere in Washington D.C. I saw people going in and out of it carrying letters and packages one day and the blonde in me finally realized it. It was nearing Valentine's day and I thought, "what better time to lose my NYC post office virginity then by sending off my Valentine's?!" (it was a very exciting thought) Many of my cards needed extra postage, because Papyrus decides each of their cards should weigh about 2lbs, so I couldn't just send them off via mailbox. Instead, I had to get them weighed, extra stamped and such at a post office. I hurried home, signed and sealed my love cards and prepped to deliver them.
As I bopped up the stairs (there were at least half of mile of these things to walk up- I am telling you this building is massive and it has the stairs to go with it) to enter the hallowed postal service halls I realized that everyone entering or exiting the building looked the same- miserable. I further pondered this observation as I entered to take in the scene. I instantly was overwhelmed. It smelled exactly like if old books and the Smithsonian had a baby and it was colder then an SAT testing room. There were people everywhere and the place was so vast that if you walked from one end to another you could probably complete half of your fitbit steps for the day.
I left early enough for work that I had time to get lost and/or wait in line so I wandered around a bit before trying to complete my task of sending off my letters. There was a main line at the far end of the building that seemed like a place to go if you needed postal service assistance so I shuffled that way. As I walked, I noticed people who were angry, frustrated and upset. Not everyone but the majority of people were just not happy (there was even a toddler in a stroller throwing a tantrum.) Some were getting mad at postal workers, others talking angrily on the phone, one lady was scolding a dog in a stroller (I wish I was making this up) and everyone seemed to be in a rush.
I got on line and noticed even more angry people because what is more frustrating then waiting in line?! Nothing, apparently. There was a man who worked there helping people who were just getting in line- he was telling them where to go or what forms they would need for shipping certain boxes. He was helping a very disgruntled gentleman who apparently had already boxed something up but wanted a different box....the situation was unclear to me but from what I gathered it involved boxes and of course lots of exasperation. So, I just got on line and began to wait. About 8 minutes in, after his argument with the box man, the worker came up to me and asked if I needed help. I explained I just needed some things weighed and sent off and he smiled and said I should be on line at the OTHER end of the hallway (naturally) at the small mail desk. Now, I had no idea what a small mail desk was, but since he was an employee of our government and of this lovely establishment I trusted him.
I thanked the man for his guidance and I also thanked myself for always leaving enough time to get lost (because everyday in this city I do). I then gathered my stuff to make the incredible journey to the other side of the grand hall and as I was doing all of my gathering, a women behind me exclaimed, "isn't that just the worst?!" (alluding to my wasted time spent waiting in line). Walking away, I thought honestly about her statement and during my one minute power stride to the other side of the US post office, I came to two important conclusions: 1. Maybe people are angry and pissy just because they want to be and the US post office has nothing to do with it. and 2. That if that was the worst thing that would happen to me all day, then by golly this day was going to kick ass.