Time to Stop Pretending
Okay, U.S. Postal Service. It’s time to give up this whole pretense that you actually track packages.
You don’t.
Compare the so-called USPS “package tracking” with that of any other carrier and you’ll quickly realize that the good ol’ Post Office might as well be sticking random information into their system for all the good it does.
Look, you can usually do it cheaper. And unlike the other carriers, you can actually deliver to P.O. Boxes (since, well, you own them). Other than that? Don’t waste my time.
(Can anyone else tell that I’ve been waiting two days beyond the scheduled delivery date for a #$@#ing package to arrive via USPS?)
2 Comments:
The service has sucked ever since the rates went up.
Ya know, I usually love to slam the Post Office, but as far as packages go, I've had better luck with the USPS than with anyone else.
True, letters go awry. I've gotten mail for 2223 Calvert (which was torn down in the '70s), 2223 Charles and 2223 Maryland. These *almost* make sense because they're the parallel streets near St. Paul. Of course, you might think the carrier would look at the street name, but hey. 2223 Christian street, on the other hand, is all the way over in West Baltimore somewhere and doesn't make much sense at all. My favorite? When I lived a block down at 2121 St. Paul, I got a letter addressed to 2121 Avenida San Paulo, San Diego. So evidently somebody looked at it, translated the Spanish street name and figured out that it meant (more or less) St. Paul Street, but didn't bother to notice that it was in the wrong city.
Yet, my packages (which can't be shoved through the mail slot of a traditional city house) arrive on time. I'm never at home when the mail comes, so I get a dutifully filled-out little yellow card. I don't mind going to the PO to get the package. It's not *their* fault that I'm not home. UPS, however, keeps trying insistently to deliver the package to the house. One might think that their drivers--who usually cover the same territory daily--would figure out that I'm never there, especially when I fill out the little sticky-note form asking them to leave it on the back porch (they never do). And, when I *do* have to go and pick it up, I have to make a pilgrimage out to the southwestern limits of the city, thread my way through several tired residential areas, and navigate a partially-forgotten light industrial section to find the UPS mating grounds, only to wait twenty minutes while they excavate the package from the vast warehouse.
I'm figuring all of this is regional. Around here, though, the Post Office is pretty much the way to go for packages. For the last ten of us alive who actually send letters--well, best to just hand-deliver them yourself.
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