The Insanity of the United States Postal Service

Where the heck is Face, he's only posted
once in the last 10 days and only a few
times this whole month. Is he in the dentists
chair?

Quote: Evenbob

Where the heck is Face,

Well, you see its like this.... He was walking along a beach and he found an old tennis ball which he started throwing around.

(Story out of Australia: After some kids played with an old tennis ball for about twenty minutes they saw a spiney blue octopus crawl from it . Fortunately, they instantly recognized the creature as having venom powerful enough to kill 26 people instantly.).

Quote: Fleastiff

Well, you see its like this....

It's Tgiving week, I bet he's real busy
already. 5 packs of cigs a day, cursing
and drinking. You know, what all PO
employees do.

I have been waiting for the pre-Christmas rants to begin. I look forward to them.

C'mon Face, share some seasonal horror stories.
We're jonesing for the some juicy stuff from
the road.

He's already buried under packages. Send out an APB.

Quote: rxwine

He's already buried under packages. Send out an APB.

Chain smoking under a pile of
Priority Mail packages, what an
ugly way to go.

Quote: Evenbob

The PO delivers on Sunday during the holidays?
I just saw a PO truck tearing up the road, he had
the thing floored. Is that where Face is, working
24/7?

On holidays? We ALWAYS deliver Sunday (parcels only), ever since that son of a bitch Amazon was let inside. And though I know no details since none of y'all mentioned it and y'all are my only source of news, I guess UPS broke with them. So UPS, who not only has an attachable trailer but a whole 'nuther body in the truck to deal with the increased workload and STILL had to pawn packages to us as they couldn't keep up, is now out of the game entirely.

And I don't "tear around". My internal sort, the way I have my truck organized, is much too important to risk with a heavy pedal. I can't make up the time with speed that I can with organization, and lead foot risks all my s#$% toppling hither and thither. The only time I tear is when my tranny slips and I mash it in an attempt to tear it out of the vehicle. Maybe then they'll fix the son of a bitch instead of the continuous bandaids that work for 4 hours before putting my life in danger for the next four months. Pah.

But I don't have much of an inspired rant. A mix of being prepared coupled with critical depression just has me in a different mood. But I'll type. See what happens...

I've been reflecting on my 18 months so far, and though it is nothing short a cry fest, I thought I'd get it out...

To begin, I was shorted hours upon my arrival. All openings were to be filled in-house first, though we just kept pulling that dude from 3 towns down. Even after I inquired, I was told, basically, to get a different job (transfer to city side). I was naive and just coming from executive level employment, I didn't know I had to raise hell yet. My whole year of poverty was in large part because of this failure. Though I did not need and would have gladly split the hours, I was shorted $25,000 in labor in '15, for little other reason than Peter either didn't know or, more likely, was too goddamn Beta to do anything about it.

When I started the hold down on Tgiving last year, I was supposed to accrue time at the same rate as a full time. I was never even told. It was a fellow carrier that clued me in. Only after several requests was I given the paperwork. I was given the paperwork by having Peter place a form I did not know what was and did not know how to fill out on my desk when I wasn't there. So, not knowing, it sat for several months. I eventually did find out what it was, and eventually did figure out how to complete it,... and they lost it. I inquired again, was scolded for not doing it sooner (lol) and told "maybe" it would be given to me if there weren't issues from me "waiting so long". I just last week received the paperwork for it, which I cannot decipher, and none there knew what it meant. Been over a year and I still haven't received my time.

Upon going FT I actually get days off. Every other Saturday plus, of course, every Sunday. I got reemed the hell out my first day off for not "requesting the day". Umm, it's my MF'ing day. "Well, how did you know we had coverage?" "Um, not my f#$%ing problem". And that was the day the Me that exists there now was born.

A few days off later I made plans. Got all the crew together for a big ride. Dumped several hundred into my ride, as well as registrations, as did all my crew. I mean, not all needed money into their quads, but all put money in some way or another. Food, gas, registrations...I was told at 2p on Friday, 16hrs before we were slated to leave, that my day off was no longer my day off. A few "F#$% this s#$%'s" later, I and my whole crew got screwed, with no thanks for being a good company man, but irritation that I was upset over getting f#$%ed over and out.

My kid was ran off the road and threatened with murder, as well as my ex-wife being verbally assaulted, by some POS with a death wish. I was up all night pacing my homicidal rage off and dealing with 5-0. Could not get the following day off. Wound up f#$%ing up, obv, as I was on no sleep and still completely consumed with what had transpired. Didn't matter. Reemed out.

Someone very close to me was diagnosed with cancer. Could not get the day off. Wound up f#$%ing up again. No quarter given. Was actually taken into the bowels and was actually yelled at, as if I was 12yr old again. I did not swing, and I count that as a victory.

I planned a big trip with my boy. I have ceased buying him material possessions as a matter of course and instead give gifts of time and experience. Fishing was of course what he wanted, and over the course of many months he was dead set on catching a salmon. Had the trip planned for months, was really ramping it up and making it a big deal. I mean REALLY ramping it up, building it up so it was, in fact, a really big deal. I was packing gear when I got a phone call, 1800 Friday evening, just 10hrs before I was scheduled to depart. "Face, no coverage, you're working tomorrow". I went on full spittle flying, shaking, motherf#$% this and that and you and everyone for 15 straight minutes, and continued the minute I arrived at work the next day. You think I'm an angry man in general, see what happens when you force my kid to spend his b-day home crying because "Daddy broke his promise". That particular episode ended with a 911 call being placed as Peter went catatonic after our confrontation. That one I did actually feel a little bad about. And I do mean "a little".

Currently, only one person talks to me anymore. Peter filed for retirement as it is "not worth it" and is gone after Xmas. And I'm starting to take by force. My dental a few weeks back, I just called in. Called in at shift start, no less. Since they can't find someone in several years, no sense in giving notice, ain't gonna matter. Yet, huh, they did get someone. So let's test it out. Next appt is tomorrow, I requested on Thurs for the day. No word. Friday I get Peter...

"Face, sorry, we got no one."
"(1,000yd stare) I know, sorry."
"So you're going..."
"That was a courtesy, not a request."
"(blank stare) ...wha..."
"That was not a request. I will not be here Monday. This is me letting you know."
"But... there's no one! We can't..."
"And I understand. You "can't" for over two years now. I know."
"So... you'll..."
"I will not be here."
"But... can you..."
"I can. I could change it to any day I want. But I'm not going to."
"/sigh. Is there any way..."
"Yes, there are many ways. Pick a day, I can make it that day. (leans in) But I will not."
"/sigh. OK, I'll try, but I just can't find..."
"Peter, I know. Save it. There's no one to find, no one to come. I know. You've told me this for every day I've ever requested, every day I've ever had off. There's just no one. It's a shitty situation. Listen... I. Don't. Care. My sacrificing is over. See you Tuesday"
(exit, center stage)

Got a call 30min later "Hey, just letting you know, I found someone. He'll be in here to do your route on Monday"

F#$%ing c#$%s.

So wonderful world of .gov management aside, it's Xmas. And it's just about the shitstorm that was expected. but something is different about this year. Remember, I was thrown into this blind and onto a new route blind and had, minimum, 1.5 routes to do each and every time last year. Being on my route, which is the first route i ever slung so was familiar, and guaranteed to only have to do my route and no other, is a certain improvement. And just being prepared in general has made it easier as well, as has developing skills in the truck to make things quicker, easier, and generally more efficient. The weather's kind of a wash; on one hand there's no snow, so no plowing irritations, and it continues to be unseasonably warm, but I do find we're in that transition phase that doesn't work for me. Too cold to dress light, too warm to bundle up, so I generally finish the day soaked to the bone in sweat. Since the parcels are so heavy and we run them first before touching the mail, I actually did 2hrs of my route yesterday barefoot to allow my socks and boots to dry, as with all my packages already gone, there was no dismounting.

But some things are definitely worse. One is my demeanor, which has gotten quite a bit meaner. I put my head down sometime in '15 with a desire to work myself to the bone and sacrifice everything in the pursuit of a quick fix to my financial peril, and I just haven't been able to pick that head back up again. My entire existence is nothing but work, with what little fun I can muster being crammed into one day that not only finds me physically exhausted, but also in competition with all the other life stuff that couldn't get done during work days. Banking, medical, dental, just about anything that need be done in a 9-5 sort of way just does not exist for me. I've gone full Amish, laundering and bathing on Sundays only. I even pulled my name off the reffing list, as I just can't do it all anymore.

Physically it's bad. The depression has gotten so bad that it's even starting to sap my anger, and anger is all I had to keep me going. My teeth are "better" though still really f#$%ed up, but it's my back that has reached a new level. The pain is just ugly. I had to hit the streets and could only find the damnable horse-sized vikes. I really do hate the big ones, but short of skin popping some questionable West side garbage, it's about my only option. And no matter how many requests I make for "CIA grade cocaine", they keep insisting they don't keep it at the post office. Well, they should. Do all 4 of those f#$%ing routes with a smile, I would. And be done by noon! =p

I know, not the rant you were looking for. Maybe purging this garbage will give room for one to grow. I damn sure know I got the seeds for it. In fact, I can feel one sprouting just now. Maybe in a few days it'll be ready to harvest.

TL;DR Life sucks, the USPS is garbage, and I've gone full, unapologetic ass#$%^

To quote the grimey bird from The Flintstones, "It's a living!".

Quote:

My kid was ran off the road and threatened with murder, as well as my ex-wife being verbally assaulted, by some POS with a death wish.

Road rage is no joke anymore. In Oct, 1 mile
from my house, and this is an affluent area,
mind you, an 18 year old kid with no headlight
on his dirtbike, got cut off by a guy in a pickup.
At a stop sign he hauled the 64 year old man
out of his truck and beat and kicked him to
death. He went to a friends house laughing
and had him takes pics of his bloody hands.

This is a normal looking kid, lives 1/2 mile from
me with his parents in a McMansion. They got
10K for the 100K bail, but a week later the kid
was charged with murder and they arrested him
again on 1mil bail. He'll do min 20 years for
manslaughter.

There's a lesson here. If confronted, run. Hit the
gas, get out of there. The crazies are running
things now.

A few years back I was driving across the Navajo Res., in a full size Ford with a camper. By chance, with pinstripes and such, it just happens to be red, white and blue and big. Don't know if that had anything to do with it or not? Doing about forty and coming towards me in the opposing lane were three school buses. The middle one, third window from the back is open. Out of that window comes flying at me a full size brick. It caught me right where the post is on the drivers side that holds the windshield and the top of the cab. I am so glad half the force caught the post, but the other half caught the glass. It scattered, it didn't splay into my face but it destroyed the windshield. I thought it would be a waste of time to catch the bus, board it and see if anyone would point out the thrower. Scared me, it all seemed to happen in slo mo.

I talked with the Sheriff, they told me they figure there are 60 gangs on the Res. One game they like to play is to lay in the ditches along the hwy, and bomb trucks, like they did me. Way to much idle time. I know work kept me out of a of mischief as a kid.

Good to see Face is fine, I was worried he might of got hooked up with some woman or joined a rock n roll band. BTW, the Parker 400 is in Feb.