Mr & Mrs Peters

You would think that eventually I would learn my lesson and stop going to the Post Office near my work. I mean, really, how many times am I going to be burned before I learn to not put my hand in the flame?? (Okay, that’s a bit dramatic but work with me here) I suppose in this regard, I am really living out the infamous definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

Here’s what happened this time around:

This particular post office has a number system instead of a line. So, you pull a number and wait for them to call it. Simple, right? Yeah, maybe it would be if they weren’t nutso there. You see, in addition to the number system, in the past they also have had a non-number line for people who just have one transaction to complete.

When I arrived there were two other people in the lobby. Both were already being helped. I didn’t bother to grab a number because I knew they would call it before I was done addressing my package. When I finished sealing up my box-of-love for the Utah Peters I noticed that the worker standing at the no-number-line did not have a customer. I walked up and we started to chat.

Her: Did you happen to grab a number?
Me: Ummm, no.
Her: It really is important that you take a number, so that things are done fairly.
Me: (looking around the lobby that is empty save for a man standing in the corner talking on his cell) Oh, ummm, ok…
Her: Blah, blah, number, blah, you must in the future, blah…

This lady was scolding me for something that wasn’t even an issue! I went to a cashier who didn’t have a line and didn’t have any customers to deal with and I got in trouble!

These people are going to drive me to drink.

Remember my incident at the post office last month?

Well, I was back at the PO today and even though I am totally over the whole being robbed blind thing, (seriously, I am!) I thought it wouldn’t hurt to just ask about their pricing… Here is what ensued.

Me: So, how much do you guys charge for Passport photos?

Postal Worker: $15 dollars for two photos.

Me: WHAT?? Last time I came in here they charged me $25!

PW: Oh, that was a mistake. Who did that?

Me: That dude over there! The one with the pony tail. (side note: NEVER trust a man with a pony tail) I KNEW he was over charging me!! I even questioned him on it.

PW: Yeah, you got overcharged. You should bring your receipt in.

Well, folks, I am at a crossroads now. The stubborn donkey side of me wants to march back to that post office ASAP to get my $10 refund. The logical side of me insists that $10 probably isn’t worth the inevitable arguing that will ensue when I try to get a refund.

I suppose it should be enough that I now know I was ripped off.

We will see whether my donkey or logical side wins out.

Today, I was robbed. In broad daylight. At the post office. By the postal worker.

Yes, that’s right… the U.S. Federal Government robbed me. You see, this morning I walked into that Post Office naive and trusting. When they told me that my passport pictures cost $25 (after I had already taken them) I thought, “Wow, that is steep. But I trust good ‘ol Uncle Sam. Surely, the photos must be taken on special paper or something.”

Not 15 minutes later I was at Costco and saw the following sign…

“PASSPORT PHOTOS- $4.99″

You can imagine the rage that immediately filled my body. It was like the Hulk, except I didn’t actually turn green. I had a hard time understanding how the government could sleep at night knowing that they overcharged people so greatly for something that is necessary. It’s not like I wanted to buy a tanning bed from the government. With something frivolous like that… well, I would probably be okay with them hiking the price.

Even though I know it is pointless and unhealthly, I have spent the remainder of my day thinking of all the other things I could have done with the $20.01 that the Post Office stole from me. Here is a partial list:

gotten a pedicure
purchased a new CD
OR a new book
OR a new shirt
OR 5 drinks at Starbucks
….

I would say that I am going to put a Peters embargo on the Post Office, but I send way too many letters, and would thus just end up inconviencing myself. Frickin’ eh.