Jcrs Post Office Jcrs

Wow. Here’s some suckage for ya.
I mailed two packages from this hole-​in-​the-​wall excuse for a Post Office over a week and a half ago and neither one has reached its destination yet. Furthermore, according to the Pre-​Paid Return Shipment tag on one (courtesy of the company to which I was returning an item), one of the packages in question had never been scanned into any Denver Post Office at all!
Okay… interesting. I quickly got in touch with the friend on the receiving end of my OTHER package (a vintage RATT iron-​on… because we rock like that), and sure enough, she hadn’t gotten hers either!
Not cool. I immediately got on the phone to this Post Office and was greeted by one of the surly senior citizens (average age: 156 years old) who work there. When I (politely) explained my situation, she came back at me with:
«Well I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.»
‘Scusemewhatnow?
Me: «Well, do you think it’s still maybe lying around your (filthy, unorganized, shabby excuse for a post) office somewhere?» I left out those parenthesesed parts… but they’re so totally completely true. That place is a poohole. They don’t accept credit cards and they don’t have an adding machine or electronic thing that prints the bar codes that are SUPPOSED to insure that your precious packages make it to their final destination. They add up your costs on little snippets of scratch paper. In pencil, no less. I’m SO NOT KIDDING. I should’ve known better.
Anyhow, Lazy Miss Daisy on the other end of the line (sounding really pissed that I’m taking up her time with my nonsense, which is kind of funny because there is NEVER anyone in this place) says to me: «Well did you get insurance or delivery confirmation?»
Me: «No, because it was a pre-​paid mailer. No postage necessary.»
Lazy Miss Daisy: «Well then how do you know it didn’t leave this office or get to where it was going?»
Me (resisting the urge to bang the phone against my desk): «Because the company I’m mailing it to receives notice when it gets scanned through the departing Post Office.» DUH!!! Have you never heard of tracking packages before? Oh, probably not… because you still expect things to arrive via Pony Express.
LMD: «Well, there’s nothing here. Everything gets picked up, so I don’t know what you want me to do. I don’t really have time for this. I’m a contract employee.»
First of all, what does that even MEAN??? Second of all, you don’t have TIME? Liar! I’ve been in your Post Office, lady. You have NOTHING BUT time. I know I’m cutting into your Marmaduke-​reading time, but fer feck’s sake, your office lost BOTH of my packages. One, I might be able to chalk up to someone else’s mistakes. But both? Oh no, lady. You’ve got some ’splaining to do.
Me: «So who picks everything up?»
LMD: «Oh geez, you don’t even want to know.»
Me (like I’m talking to a two-​year-​old): «Uh yeah… I kind of do.» Is she serious?
LMD: «Let me give you the phone number of the Lakewood Post Office, I really don’t have time for this.»
Me: «Do they pick up the packages?»
LMD: «No.»
Me: «They why (the freakin’ HELL) would I want their phone number? Who. Picks. Up. The. Packages. Here?»
LMD: «Sunnyside.»
Me: «Okay, then give me THEIR phone number!»
LMD (with a long, drawn out sigh… like I’m making her life SOOOO HARD): «Okay… here.»
Wow. Sorry for INCONVENIENCING you.
It looks like I’m going to have to go down there in person to raise some hell. The girl who received both my packages– the ONLY under-​65er I’ve ever seen working there, she’s maybe 19 years old or so– is starting to seem pretty suspicious in my eyes. It’s becoming more and more clear that my packages never left this facility. After talking with the Sunnyside pickup people, I’m 99% sure of it. Despite having a USPS sign out front, this is NOT a government regulated office. They’re «contract» (oh, so that’s what LMD meant– that she answers to nobody. great).
So, if you want your mail stolen, tossed into a dirty corner and forgotten, or otherwise intercepted… go here. If not, don’t. I know I’LL never be back (that is, save for this afternoon… when I head over there to kick some ass).
***UPDATE***
My packages finally made it to their destinations… two weeks later! Maybe the crotchety wench on the phone finally decided to sift through the mouse poop in the corners, discovered my missing packages, and sent them on their merry way. Who knows? Anyhow… I still won’t be back, but I grudgingly retract any insinuations of thievery I previously laid out.