Déjà vu … it’s the post office… it’s a parcel
Well, we got a care package from the states – thanks G & W!! made it in record time of 3 weeks. Not bad. Well, almost 3 weeks – the delay really came when I wasn’t’ home to receive said package…
My security dude told me the post man would try to redeliver at 6:30 PM (yeah, right!) sure enough – 6:30 came and went so did the next day and the next. We had even written a note giving permission to leave it with said Security Dude.
On the way home from school Thursday, we drove down to the little post office… I walked in to a din of activity (HA! – not really!!) 3 men… one sitting at a computer – not really turned on (the man, not the computer) … the other two were shifting parcels, letters and having fun rubber stamping forms of some sort.
Head Honcho: “what’s the address” (no hello, what can I do for you…)
I tell him the address & there was a parcel for us but the postman did not leave it… he picks up a rubberbanded stack of, oh say 20 letters… thumbs through and says, “no, post man has not returned.” (head bobble) other two paused but quickly returned to stamping after a mere word to each other…
I call the house to confirm it was a PARCEL vs. letter…. Poor Priya – “no mam, no postman coming” “Priya, was it a letter or a box?” “No mam, no postman” “Please ask security if it was a letter or box or a parcel” (pause) “no mam, security says no postman coming”…. Ugh
While I was on the phone the Head Honcho shuffled out of the office….
I turn to the two stampers… “I think it was a parcel, a box, not a letter. Can we check the boxes?” They look at each other… stamper #1 picks up the same bundle of envelopes… “no, no, a box, a parcel” I point to the small box next to it… then to the one on the shelf behind them…. The one in the SAME place as our last parcel I had to go rescue.
Tahdah – it WAS my parcel… they mumble something, head bobble, stamper #1 leaves, stamper #2 says “you must wait here” and offers me a chair. Ok, so I wait…. Nothing, well, except the calendar behind me flops me in the back of the head, in the wind of the fan. More nothing. I text hubby…
“Excuse me, can I have my box?”… “No, you must wait”…. (waitwaitwaitwaitwait) “excuse me, what am I waiting for?” “The postmaster went to get tea” (Oooooooohhhhhh.REALLY?????? waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait)

Finally teatime is over – Head Honcho arrives with Stamper # 1 following him – they have a committee meeting. Stamper #2 seems to be on my side. I promptly hand Head-Honcho-postmaster-happy-with-tea Dude a copy of my registration paper as proof of identification. He studies it. Studies the box. Committee meeting again, tug at the string, “do you have a receipt?” “No, I did not see the parcel, nor the post man.” Head bobble, confer… peck at the computer… Stamper stamps a form… they ask me to sign… ask if they can keep my copy of the registration (that’s why I carry the copy!!)… they hand me the parcel “Thank you very much!” I smile – they bobble (I think stamper #1 & #2 smiled back) I emerge victorious!! The kids cheer in the car (we can go home) Kumar offers to put the parcel in the back of the van, “no, thank you, I think I’ll hold it in my lap!!” We laugh!