So the great Postal Service snafu of 2012 has been resolved.  Well, at least our great snafu.  Recently I posted about the ineptitude of the Post office, but I’m pleased to say, the local postmaster here in little Newmarket New Hampshire rose to the occasion.  After sending our package on a round trip demolition derby to Florida and back, then leaving it in its wounded state on our front porch without so much as a knock at the door, our local postmaster took great pains to set things right. Kudos.

Magic boxes that randomly make things disappear....

My wife walked into the post office with a little trepidation fully expecting to have to twist arms for some kind of refund.  The line at the counter was full.  Great, a scene at the local postal counter with plenty of people to annoy on their lunch break.  However, when the clerk behind the counter took a look at the condition of the package, she insisted that my wife speak directly with the postmaster himself and ushered her in.

He was gracious and quite courteous.  She hardly got a word out before he insisted that they’d take care of the problem.  We had decided to keep the box sealed so it could be inspected in front of USPS personnel so they opened it together in his office after a short contest with the replacement sealing tape the thief had closed it with.  The contents had indeed been rummaged through, but weren’t damaged or missing.  The gift card however, was gone.  “They like to go through packages to look for cards, hoping to find money, a lot easier to carry out.”  Whoever it was came up empty handed, the card was cash free.  He couldn’t tell her where the breach occurred, at the Newmarket locale or any other sorting location from here to Florida.  Odd that the package made it to Florida and came back.  He gave us a theft complaint to fill out and said he wouldn’t know the outcome as the investigators don’t give local branches any idea when they are being investigated.  Unfortunately he feels it’ll probably go nowhere.

He took the box and offered to send it 2 day priority.  He would box it himself.  He apologized again and again and one could tell he was genuinely embarrassed by the episode.

The box arrived at its final destination today a mere two weeks later than intended, but there all the same.  It made me wonder if he was so accommodating and concerned because we’re such a small town here and he probably knows we’ll run into him again.  I’ve personally never gotten this type of response from the workers at the larger post offices of the cities I used to live in, grumpy old bastards who always made me feel as though I was intruding on their time.  Our little post office at Newmarket, extending the personal touch, the human face of a government monolith that’s slowly dying under its own mismanagement.  I’ll bet it’s on the list to be closed.  Too small to be profitable.

Maybe the closing of offices will save a lot of money and return the USPS to profitability.  May I suggest closing all the large, shiny and glitzy locations named after useless politicians and keep open the small neighborhood ones where they remember you’re not only a customer, but a neighbor.

Oh, and how about not sending the same package up and down the eastern seaboard three times.

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