USPS

I am in love with the United States Post Office. This is a bigger deal than you think, because I very nearly broke off all communication with the USPS fairly recently. I mean, I was angry, vengeful, unforgiving. It all began last fall, when I paid $16.20 to send a Herman Hesse paperback book to my daughter in Australia. She needed this particular book for her masters thesis. Had I known it was an out-of-print book, selling on eBay for $50, I might have insured it. But I didn't. I trusted in the USPS. And why shouldn't I? “Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds,” right? I grew up believing in that motto. And I can easily conjure up the snowy blizzards of my childhood when Doc, our mailman, never failed to deliver. So I sent the book off to my daughter, confident that it would arrive at its destination.

It didn't. After a month of asking my daughter online every day, “Did the book arrive yet?” I went to my local P.O., receipt in hand, to request a tracking of the book. It was then that I noticed something on the receipt: “Aruba – First-Class Pkg.” ARUBA? What? The print-out from the Postmaster confirmed it: “Destination: ARUBA.” Fearing dementia, I checked the receipt from my Customs Declaration. Yes, clearly, I sent the book to Australia, not Aruba.

But the USPS was clearly looking to end our relationship. I wanted my money back. No way, they said. Track the package, I demanded. Can't track it once it leaves the country, they retorted. “Is it in Aruba?” I queried. “Oh, no, it wouldn't have gone to Aruba!” the USPS insisted.

Liars.

I have a record of the phone calls I have made to the USPS. I have dates, names, case numbers, all of it. I was told, on my last phone call, that it would take up to 23 days before I would get a response. (Twenty-three days? How in the world do they predict that?)

Well, the distraction of the holidays, travel, and small family crises took my attention away from the USPS. My daughter, too, was traveling all over that crazy land down under. She returned to her home base this week and messaged me, “Oh! The book arrived! 'Missent to Aruba' it says on the package!” Okay, so FOUR MONTHS LATER, it found its way to the address I'd printed on the package. Never mind that my daughter finished her masters thesis without it. The USPS delivered.

And today, I received in the mail:

• from India, a book sent from a friend
  
  
• from HongKong, a connector that will allow me to display my MacBook Air programs on my TV
  
  
• from my financial advisor, a check to cover my son's college room and board
  
  
• from a magazine publishing company, an amazing offer to get two years for the price of one plus a free bookmark plus a garden planting guide plus a cookbook plus a long term care policy . . . all for only $9.95!
  

Clearly, the USPS wants me back. And I'm easy. I love the USPS.