Narrator: The following story is the truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God. I relay this sorrowful story, this horrible happening, this stupid-endous saga, from the agony of first-hand experience. Hush now, as we enter a scene of terrible travesty and wrenching woe to find our hero held at bay by the edged tips of sharpened wits and poignant helpfulness . . .

Jason: Uh, hi, yeah, can you explain why this properly addressed and stamped flat rate priority mail envelope was returned with a “not deliverable as addressed” stamp after I’ve mailed several things to this gentleman’s address before, verified the address both in my records and directly with him, and mapped the address directly to his door with Google Maps?

US Post Office (1 person): We see you and we hear you sir, but we cannot take you at your word. First, we’ll enter the address ourselves to find out if it’s a real address. Okay, yes it is. Next we’ll study the postage . . . oh, this is wrong. This isn’t a flat rate priority mail envelope.

J: But yes it is, see right here where it says ‘flat rate mailing envelope’ and ‘priority mail’?

USPS (now 2 people): Oh, yes, you’re right. Hmm. Well you shouldn’t have mailed it in this envelope. This is all wrong.

J: Really? I’ve made mailings like this oh, about 100 times since March when I started doing this and came in here – yes, to this post office – and demonstrated what I would be mailing and asked what my best mailing options where. I was told this envelope and I’ve always used this flat rate priority mail envelope. I’ve successfully sent them to New York, Atlanta, Portland, Seattle, Australia, Great Britain, Canada . . . need I go on? Notice I did say ‘Seattle’?

USPS (now up to 3 people): Really? Hmm. Well then. I still say you shouldn’t have used this envelope. Sure, the weight is a little high and does put the cost above the standard non-flat rate envelope, but you should have used that.

J: Isn’t it the same size?

USPS (in unison): Yes. And it will be $10.35 instead of $4.80.

J: Really? Huh. What other option do I have?

USPS (in perfect harmony): Well, then, um, the priority mail flat rate box. Yeah, that’s it. The next size is the box.

J: Won’t that require padding to fill the box?

USPS (down to 2 people): Yes, I’m sure it would, as it’s much larger than this package. And it won’t be $4.80.

J: Yes?

USPS (a duet): No, it will be $9.00 something.

J: So I should be using a flat rate box that will cost me more money and require me to assemble and put padding inside instead of this cheaper flat rate envelope that I’ve successfully used 100s of times over the last 9 months? I always ask the people who receive these what the condition of the envelope and book(s) are. Even though the envelope is often beat up, I’ve never had anyone say a book was damaged. And this is the first envelope that’s come back to me in all this time. From an address I’ve mailed to before and know exists.

USPS (back to 1 person now): Really? Well, yes, that is an address as far as we’re concerned. We have no answer why the Seattle office would have done this. We can’t find anything wrong with this.

<silence>

J: So can we take care of this?

USPS (solo singer): Ah, sure. Here’s the flat rate box. That’ll be–

J: Um, I don’t want the box. And isn’t the USPS going to take care of this?

USPS (back to 2 people now): You don’t want the box?

J: No.

USPS (really squawking together now): You want us to take care of this?

J: Yes.

USPS (full choir): We can’t take care of this. What do you mean, how could we take care of it?

J: Well, I sent time-sensitive material to a real address in a priority USPS envelope. The USPS didn’t deliver it and sent it back. You can’t find any reason why. You agree that the address exists. I need this to get back to Seattle and into my client’s hands.

USPS (together): What, you want us to pay for it? We can’t do that. We can give you the Customer Service number.

J: A phone number? And what am I supposed to do? Try to convince someone over the phone who cannot see the package that it was wrong of the Seattle office to declare this undeliverable and return it? Go through everything we just went through here in person?

USPS (as one): Yes.

J: I suppose if right now I rip this envelope open and send the material myself in another envelope it will reduce my chances of proving my case?

USPS (doing a choreographed jig now): Yes.

J: So there’s really nothing you can do to take care of this right here in person right now?

USPS (one stalwart respresentative holding firm to the corporate line): No. If you call now you might just catch someone in the office. Otherwise it’s Friday afternoon, and . . . . . . .  Sorry. Next.

<fade to black>

Narrator (softly, a catch in his voice): Dumbfounded, at a total loss for words, our wounded hero turns from his bespectacled foes united behind their counter of fortification and walls of bureaucratic obstinacy. He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of incomprehension that threatens, trying to dislodge the veil of sub-par customer service that clouds his vision. By the time he has somewhat successfully done so he finds himself outside the doors to the chamber of secrets, alone and poised upon the crossroads of his life. Our hero looks down and finds his weapon of choice in his hand. It had been his natural reaction for dealing with dilemma.

Anonymous voice in the darkness: Hello, you’ve reached Mistress X (name kept secret to protect — aww, I don’t know who). Your call is important to the USPS, but I am unable to answer your call at this time. Please leave your name and number and the reason for your call after the tone. I will get back to you just as soon as I can . . .

J: Yes, I was just at one of your offices and let me tell you a story . . .

Narrator (all bravado now): Stay tuned till next time, when our sure-footed and proud warrior rises to the challenge and rocks the foundations of the world with his answer. Will he call for vengeance, or simply charge the windmills once again . . . after he quits waiting for Mistress X to call him back?