Peeves...

Stuff the envelope, lick the gummy flap, seal the envelope. This is the process Rachel and I went through early this morning as we prepared to send out 43 invoices and magazines to our customers. For me, not typically involved in this process, it was actually kind of fun. I wasn't just anxious to get the invoice to our customers, but I really wanted them to see the great magazine our team came up with this month! At least in my eyes, it was a work of art.

So there I am, stuff, lick, seal and so it goes until the 43rd package is ready to go. Double check that each one has a label, weigh a single envelope, hmmm, 3.5 ounces, good. Head over to my trusty steed, iMac G5, open my web brouser, type in www.usps.com, and there it is on the post office web site ... "calculate postage." I do so. $1.31 per package, ok, times 43 equals $56.33. Write the check, everything going smooth, I'm feeling good. OK, now it's time to take them to the post office, have them print the postage on 43 little postage strips and they'll be in the mail. Rachel volunteers to take them, I demur since I really want to drop them in the slot myself. Ah, the joy of sending something you are proud of and relishing every minute of it.

Down I walk three blocks to those trusty, heroic postal workers who would, at least according to legend, brave the dark of night, rimy, sleet ridding sidewalks and all manner of other dangers, just to deliver my package.What JOY they will feel at my triumph! How they will gladly come to my aide, rapidly placing computer generated postage strips on my bundle of pride! I am whistling as I enter the downtown Visalia post office.

Line. There is always a line. Why is there a line. My joy starts to ebb. The man in front of me is now buying, what did he say, 7 money orders to send to Mexico! Argh. But wait, I should be happy, says I to myself, or someone who looks an awful lot like me. Yes, I am happy.

Finally, the moment has arrived.

"Forty-three pieces, 3.5 ounces, and I have a check for postage, $56.33." Says me!

"I'm sorry, sir, what did you say?"

I repeat, with slightly more joy, and a little irritation.

"OK, just a moment." she says, as she disappears through a trap door, or something.

I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Finally she appears, but with something in her hand. Actually a PILE of somethings in her hand. Then it happens. She pours 129 STAMPS out on the counter and with a wistful, almost sardonic grin she asks, "do you need anything else?"

Dumbfounded, I trip over my words, "uh, uh, uh, no, nothing else." Then, from deep inside my inner customer rises up, seeking justice in the marketplace and I say, politely, but with firm conviction, "you're giving me stamps? Can't you just print postage strips?"

All three ladies manning the post office counter look up, as one person and, singing in a unison that would make the Mormon Tabernacle Choir beam with pride, they sing together, "Oh no, sir, we can't do that for you, that would take too long, you must put the stamps on yourself!"

I leave, not simply deflated but amazed that one of the largest parcel delivery businesses in the world cannot process my beautiful, bundles of joy with a simple POSTAGE METER!~!! I dial my phone...

"Hello, FEDEX..."