The level of incompetence and disregard for postal regulations was appalling. I can only imagine what the other guys were doing.
The bosses made unreasonable demands on me. For starters, they expected me to deliver mail. Show up for work on time. Not crash the postal vehicles.
Turns out that peeing in a bottle in the back of your mail delivery truck when you’re on a route with no bathroom stops is a bit dehumanizing.
It’s a young person’s game, and I’m old. And slow. Though I noticed the twenty somethings had aged about 10 years in a six-month period.
Mailman shorts look ridiculous on anyone, no matter how sexy your legs are.
Okay, I didn’t quit. I got fired. Wait, I did quit. They wouldn’t fire me if I burned the building to the ground. Which I almost did on a couple occasions.
Speaking of fire, “Which Delivery Truck Is Going to Burst Into Flames Next?” was not my idea of a fun game.
One time, the boss accused me of drinking on the job. “How dare you!” I said. “I demand a blood test, and I want my union rep present.” The boss agreed and informed me that my rep would arrive in about half an hour. That gave me plenty of time to sober up.
Turns out I didn’t know the status of your Amazon package that was due to arrive last Wednesday. And I still don’t know. Or care.
Anyway, nervous breakdown thwarted. Wish me luck on my next adventure…
Why I Quit the Post Office
I could add true life stories to this from my three seasons working for the USPS (Unbeleiveably
Sophmoric Petty Sociopaths). A lot of it wasn’t funny though…….
If the stress is too much for you, why don’t you come over and try my job, as a 911 dispatcher? We’re always looking for good people, and none of us drive fire-prone company vehicles.