I Have a Love-Hate Relationship with the Post Office
I got our mail over lunch, and lately we've had a problem with getting other people's mail. It wouldn't be a problem if were a next-door neighbor, because we could just walk the mail over to them. In some cases, like today, we got mail that's to the same house number and same postal code--but an entirely different street. I wish we had a decent-sized mailbox, because I could put the mis-delivered mail in it to be resorted. But our "mailbox" is a little slit big enough only for letters, not packages.
I'll put the package in my car, and probably forget to send it back on its way for a couple of weeks. The correct recipient will get it and wonder, "What took this so long? Did it get routed through China?"
By contrast, I love the little post office in the next town down the road. (Oddly, it's not the one that officially serves our town. But it's the easiet one to get to.) The people working there are knowledgeable and friendly, unlike the ones at so many offices I've been to. I was so impressed with the help one post office woman gave me regarding a business mailing, I wrote her a nice thank-you letter. I figured, well, they get enough abuse in their jobs, but I certainly want to ackowledge and encourage this kind of helpfulness.
Now I feel weird when I see that woman. Maybe she thinks I'm stalking her?