Confession seems to be the theme this week—so, while I’m in the mood to be honest I should admit that I rely on my Southern genetics a wee bit too much. It’s terribly “un-feminist†I know. Unless, of course, you consider using your feminine wiles as an act of empowerment. I don’t. I think it’s sneaky and manipulative.
I can’t help that it is also effective.
I never want for attention in any store I walk into. It’s simple, really. It only requires that you foster an air of helplessness about you—I have no problem with people thinking I’m incompetent so it works for me. You know, bat your mascara-ed eyelashes and sigh. Sigh a lot. And the help will be flocking your direction in no time. Soon, they will be anticipating your arrival and meet you at the door. I kid you not.
Now, I know what most of you are thinking… but you CAN do this. The trick is to receive the help when offered. Don’t go getting all “liberated†about it when the offer is made; instead, accept it graciously. With a slight Southern drawl if you can pull it off. Otherwise, just sigh and say, “Yes, Yes, I do need help!†Because, if you really think about it, you do! You know you do. This self-sufficient moxie you sport is weighing you down and you could use a nice produce man to pick out your oranges for you. And someone to get down that top shelf package of paper towels just out of reach. Yes, you could read the handy dandy guide to picking out replacement windshield wipers in the automotive department, but why do it yourself when the Jr. Sales Person is just dying to read it for you? Yes, you need help, lots of it! And the more you believe that the more effective your delivery will be.
Fair warning though, this little maneuver only works if there is testosterone in the building. Which is why I hate the Astoria branch of the United States Postal Service. That building is staffed with nothing but estrogen, and estrogen is Kryptonite to Southern Charm.
Those women scare me. I went in today to mail off two packages for a swap I’m doing. One of my packages was boxed in a Priority Box, but I was good—I covered all the Priority stamps before I arrived. But when I got there the woman behind the counter flipped my box upside down and then promptly gave me a three-minute lecture on the uses of Priority boxes. It seems, that you are never allowed to use their white boxes for anything but Priority. Huh?! The box I was using was a recycled box and I had no intention of buying a non-priority box. Nor was I about to pay double for the privilege of recycling a box since my packaged didn’t need to get to its destination for another two weeks.
I know better than to even try sighing in that building. Those women are fierce! They see you standing in line, and they size you up long before you even make the counter. Before you set down your packages they have given you the once-over and telepathically suggested in no uncertain terms that there will be none of that “charm†business in this building, don’t even try it or you’ll be thrown out on your ear. Understand that, whippersnapper? Good. Oh my. I do dread the Post Office.
Worse, they are armed with guilt and shame and the presumptive close. “You don’t really want to send that ground when it’s only 80 cents more to send it Priority.†That’s not a question, you will note. So, I end up stammering, “Of course, not!†while the old adage “A penny saved is a penny earned†mocks my subconscious and my face burns. I end up leaving, having paid Priority to send boxes that only needed to go ground and six bucks poorer in the making.
Well, not this time! If my charm won’t work in that building, so be it. But I will not be held hostage by that tyrant the USPS. Oh yeah, their little white Priority box was going to Florida today for the price of ground, they just didn’t know it yet.
I got back into the car, carrying my package. IZ is pretty smart, he knows defeated Southern Charm when he sees it. “Yeah, so they wouldn’t let you mail that, eh?â€
Me: “NO! Stupid Post Office. I’ll fix them, I’m going to rebox this and send it. I won’t be held hostage…yada, yada, yada.â€
The problem is, IZ knew and I knew that I didn’t have another box to use. All we have in the house at the moment are Priority boxes.
Then it hit me. The Post Office doesn’t want their white boxes being sent ground. But what if the box wasn’t white? I quickly opened up my package when we got home and set about undoing the seam on the box. I turned the box inside out and then taped it back into shape. Ha! Priority box incognito.
I’m not stupid. I, am however, a total weenie. No way in hell was I walking back into the Post Office with that box. Uh huh. Those women scare me.
Me: IZ, look at my box!
IZ: Yeah, it’s definitely not a Priority box any longer. No way they won’t take that.
Me: I’m worried, though; those women in the Post Office are no fools. They are going to take one look at me and know what I did. I don’t think I can walk back in there!
You saw that right? The helplessness bit? I mean I really am afraid of those women, which made it all the more convincing.
Me: You’ll mail it for me, right?
IZ: (sigh) Yes, I’ll mail it for you. But don’t think I don’t know what you are up to.
Me: Just don’t let them talk you into Priority, m’kay?
On our way home, IZ couldn’t help but tease, “You think you are such a bad-ass. But you’re not! You just can’t get away with your charm in there!â€
Me: Honey, I can’t help it. I don’t like the Post Office; it’s full of estrogen and estrogen is Kryptonite.
I love the sewing-it’s wonderful! (very creative too) And I must admit that I can relate to this post. I am very helpless at times, and not ashamed to admit it. I am also extremely grateful for rescue. (but I can’t do a Southern accent!)
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😀 It’s important to be thankful for the rescue… otherwise, they are less likely to be helpful in the future. ~W
The gals in our post office are not that friendly either. I wonder if it is a regional affliction – I live in Kelso, WA. I try to avoid going in there if possible. In fact today, I had to mail a package and went to a local area drug store that handles mail. There were not frightening at all.
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It’s the mix of Estrogen and stamp glue. Dangerous mix, that! Welcome!! Thanks for your comment. 😀 ~W
Pass it on. Blogger party in Astoria, February 4th. Discuss it at Walluski Babble okay?
OMG! Wende! I may be able to return to Chicago afterall! From your description it’s possible that the ladies at the Lincoln Park Post Office have transferred to the PNW!
Oh, saints be praised! Because that crowd is the most passive-aggressive, intimidating, unhelpful, rude…You are so right. A sigh from anywhere in the growing line is like music to their ears as they delight in driving people “postal.”
Kryptonite, indeed. I’ve learned to use the automated machine just inside the door and I sneak in, swipe my credit card, dump my boxes and leave as quickly as possible. Better yet, start printing your labels online at home.
I’m still trying to envision helpless, Southern girl Wende… 🙂
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Heh… I’m sure IZ will be happy to fill you in on just how helpless I can be ;) I’m really high maintenance. Poor guy! ~W
I’ve been tagged. Now you’re it. Pass it on.
Blogger Party in Astoria on Feb 4th. More info at Walluski Babble.
Astoriapostaland – The Scariest Place on Earth!
OMG…. the same thing happened to me at the Astoria PO with the Priority box Gestapo! Same story, same postal nazi, different day. And not only that… my package was going to Florida too!
Being that I like to recycle, and even more that I like using what I have (read: I had no other box), I saunter down to the Dark Castle of Fright, package in hand. Wait in line chanting in my head, “please don’t let scary lady be my clerk, please don’t let scary lady be my clerk, please don’t let scary lady be my clerk”.
“NEXT”.
Shaking in my shoes, I lift my shoulders, take a deep breath and smile as I approach (I know she senses my fear, and I must do what I can to conceal it). “Ground to Florida please”.
I realize now she’d been eyeing my Priority box the moment I entered the Chamber of Horror, like a shark eyeing a chubby seal. The dialog was much like the one she gave you… and I blurted, “but I’m recycling!!!”. “Nope, can’t do that, yada, yada, yada”. Aghast, “So I have to PAY extra to RECYCLE?”. I wanted to stand atop my soapbox, but that of course was recycled too and no doubt would have landed me in a federal prison somewhere. I turn around to what I think will be an audience of supporters and belt out a “this is unbelievable!”. All heads were down, all eyes looked away from me. Fear had infected an entire town like the plague.
“What if I just turn the box inside out… will that do”?
“NO, because I KNOW it’s a priority box”… and no doubt she keeps a log book and a “WANTED” poster of priority box violators .
“Really. Hmmm.”
By now I’m holding up the line and the mob is getting agitated. Do I stand up… or do I make my fellow Astorian’s happy by getting on with it. I chose the latter. Oh but wait. There’s more!
I think that since she’s making me pay extra… I’m gonna stick it to her and use my Visa instead of cash. Oh yea, chuckle-smug-chucle… sweet revenge.
I whip out my Visa and the next thing I hear is glass breaking. It was my little smug bubble that she busted… “You can’t have ‘See ID’ written on your Visa”. “I have to ask you to sign your Visa card and see your ID to verify it”, and shoved a pen in my face. I went from 5’6” to 1’2” in an instant, and I paid in cash.
Moral of the horror story is that I go whenever possible to the PO in Long Beach or Chinook. Also… the newest Priority boxes have “PRIORITY” printed on the inside. Not to worry… we’ll find a way around that!
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Heh… here I was thinking that I’d get in trouble for my lack of feminist values. 😀 It appears that I’ve struck quite the nerve with this PO business. And, I know I’m tilting at windmills here, but there are more incognito boxes in my future. ~W
I also have issiues with the local P.O.
One of them involves stamps. I have to buy a thousand or so stamps at a time for Christmas mailings. And it’s usually always a big hassle. All I need is a “Plain Jane” Christmas stamp to send to customers. But alas! They need to “save them for other customers” (I can’t tell you how many times I have heard this quote). There are plenty of Hanakkah, Kwanzaa and left over Black History Month stamps, which they always offer me, but obviously I’m not gonna use those for a Christmas mailing. So after a few minutes of pleading they finally cave in and pull some random number out that is always different. “Well I can give you 800” or “I can spare 780”. And then always the classic “come back tomorrow and we’ll give you the rest”. Because you know the HUGE shipment of plain Christmas stamps is always coming in tomorrow!
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They’re hoarding stamps? Um, what happened to selling them to the first customer? Sheesh. ~W
Oh I forgot to say…..
I hope I didn’t make you mad or something, first you took me off your blogroll deal and then you didn’t invite me to the Bloggers meetup……… 🙁
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I emailed you. 😀 ~W
I was in that scary line just yesterday trying to send a package. What is with those ladies?! I happen to be a nice person, as do you and Monica, and.. and…
But after working in Seaside for a year, believe me, that post office is EXACTLY the same. The must be trained to be mean…
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I know! But, maybe they are, as IZ likes to think, under a lot of stress?? ~W
Estrogen is *so* your Kryptonite… I guess I’m all testosterone because you just bat your eyelashes at me and I’m off to do your bidding. What *is* that power you have over me?
Personally, I don’t have any problems with that Post Office. I always walk in with a smile, greet them heartily, deal with the transaction at hand, and then give them a big thank you when it is done. They area always disarmed by that. I get the impression that they are so abused by patrons during the day that any goodness brought to them is deeply appreciated.
As for the USPS – I think that they should have a policy where if you are going to stuff the box in front of them, you pay full price. If you are going to take the box with you and stuff it from home they should charge a $2 box deposit. When you do mail the box, they should give you $2 off the shipping price. This would encourage *MORE* people to recycle their boxes. But at the end of the day the locals are just enforcing the rules handed down to them by their bosses – and this is another way the USPS is trying to make more money…
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You’re always defending the under-dog… although, in this case, I’m not sure they deserve your defense. :DÂ And yes, I’m no fan of Estrogen, in particular… and specifically the stuff flowing at the USPS. 😀 ~W
I had no idea about the whole priority box thing. How completely ridiculous! I was thinking about this and I was going to say that you could cover the boxes with Kraft paper, but that just wastes more paper, and the point is to waste less. However, I have often very effectively covered boxes using grocery paper bags inside out. It makes an old fashioned looking parcel. If you have the grocery bags lying around then it wouldn’t be wastefu.
However, that isn’t the main point. The main point is the kryptonite. Very vexing. You need a USPS talisman of some sort.
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Ooh… an USPS talisman sounds perfect! Wonder what that would look like and where I can get one?! ~W