Wednesday, February 22, 2006

the postal service

no. i'm not talking about the band. i'm talking about the postal service. I went over there yesterday to pick up this package that they can't seem to deliver to my house right? And it's like the 3rd time i've been over there to try and get it right? So, i'm not really in the mood for any crap when i get there, because you know, the post office isn't exactly next to my house, and on top of that, the last two times i went there to get it, it was fucking freezing out, and plus i gotta walk back with nothing in my hands right? So, i call first. Because one thing i know is, if you call first, you can sometimes save yourself some hassle. Except, calling the postal service is like calling the DMV, so okay, maybe it's more of a hassle, but either way, i couldn't get through anyway. The fucking line was disconnected or something. Not in service. Now that sounds like the postal service to me.

anyway, i get over there. And i see people hurrying to get through the door, you know, because it's coming up on 5, and one thing the postal service DOES do on time, is they lock the god damned doors on you. So, me? i'm hustling too. I'm not going for 4 tries on this. I want the package. It's as easy as that. So, as i'm running for the door, i see the guy starting to lock the door. I mean, that's cool, because i see people inside, so i figure, 'hey. this is a one minute operation. there's nobody at the pick up window on line, i could be in and out of there before the regular window line has even moved..." So i get there, and yea. the door's locked. But Me? na. that ain't gonna stop me. That's not how i do it. If it was my first try to get this package, MAYBE. but second try? Maybe. 3rd try?! hell no. i'm getting the fucking thing. So what i do is, i knock on the door. Polite style. And the guy with the keys, he does the ol' "pretend i don't hear the guy, and he'll go away" routine. Except, i'm not like that. I know he can hear me, i mean, it's a glass box, and he's INSIDE of it. So then i figure, "hell. he want's to ignore me? after all i've done trying to get here on time, save them the hassle of having to redeliver and fail at it again? No man. i'm doing this for him. I'm doing it for the country. I'm saving the government some money. i'm being responsible about our dependancy on foreign oil. That's WHY i came all the way over here."

it was in that frame of mind that i offered my second knock on the door. This one nothing like the first. I let him know i was there for reals. I rapped it good and hard, and plenty of times. In fact, i'm sure i made him jump a little. He turned around for sure that time. Gave me that, "i work for The UNION, and i don't have to do jack shit for you, whitey" look.

Now me? Okay. I get Union Rules. I get, you wanna go home at 5. I understand it's been a long day. But if you pull The Union Card, on me? Just your average joe, not in a union? Naw. I don't go out like that. It's just not how i do it.

So, i wait. I mean, in a minute, there's gonna be a lady or some dude wanting to get out. And he's going to have to unlock that door, and when he does, i'm going to be right there. And when he opens that door, i'm going in. And when i'm in, i'm getting my package. So, you see? it's like that.

Of course, he sort of is predicting this, and i don't know if he was predicting it to play out like I was predicting it to play out, but there came the look of, "hey. I see how you do. And i can tell you, you ain't gonna do like you think you do, when you do it here with me."

of course the look i gave back was really nothing, because i was rocking the Boca-Ratons. So if anything, i looked like a terrorist, ready to come in and gun the whole place down. I didn't look like the blue haired lady with the foldable shopping cart full of plastic bags from the 99¢ store. So i just wait my turn.

And sure enough, here comes a guy. He wants out. And here comes my teamster. He wants to head me off at the pass. So, he unlocks the door. He holds firm to the handle on the door he's gotta open, and the door that's bolted shut. and he says, "we're closed. you can't come in."

and the other guy is waiting while we have this little stand-off. And i say, "well, you see? this is my 3rd time over here. And i was here before 5, and i'm coming in."

and he says, "no you ain't."

now, i'll fill you in a little. This guy is maybe in his mid forties. he's probably done some time in the military, or at least prison. He's not a weak looking man, and he's got at least 2 gold teeth in the front that i can see. He's not dressed in your standard postal uniform either. He's got like, The USPS Union jacket, you know, the deep blue satin style letter jacket with the american flag on it, and something about his particular union embroidered on the back. He's got a gold stretchy chain full of keys hanging from his belt, and a pair of your standard RedHook Projects Timberlands on. So, not to be swayed by this, and comfortable behind my boca-ratons, i tell him, "yes. I is." and start to push my way past him.

(and here's where it gets exciting)

...so he tries to muscle me back out the door. But i don't feel like being muscled out the door. i feel like getting my package. So, i'm more interested than him. And meanwhile, the guy trapped inside is asking if he can get out, but you see? it's turning into a scuffle at the post office, because, don't you know? i'm stubborn sometimes. And hell or high water, the logical thing to do is to do what's right, and for me? doing what's right involves ME getting MY package. And for him, doing what's right involves ME going THE OTHER WAY. So, we've got a conflict of interest. I'm open minded to this. But still i'm trying to push past him, and it's hard to get a good angle on him, because quite frankly, he's pretty strong.

So the other guy? he's like, "guys. seriously, can i just get out?"

and that's when i pulled my patented Michael Jordan fake left go right, dodge left and duck under the teamster routine.

Oh, he didn't care for that one one bit. PLUS, he's probably played some street ball of his own, so he's on it. he's got the good defense. And meanwhile the other guy (skip to the loo) slides under his right arm while i'm ducking under the left. (kind of like that scene in brain candy when the cops raided the public men's room at the rest area) Well. the guy got out, but son of a bitch if i couldn't get in...

So, here we are. He tells me he's gotta close the door. I tell him, i gotta get my package. (you get a sense of it) and around we go for a while. He finally strikes a bargain... I could just file a complaint with the manager. (being quick on the feet like i am) i say, "great idea. why don't you go get him?" because, you know, in order to do that, he's gotta turn around, and once he does... HERE COMES THE BLIZZARD!!! (see also, MTV's, MADE featuring The Blizzard)

But that wasn't gonna happen, because looky. Here comes the manager now! OH yeah! We gonna get to it. He comes out, and he's all, "sir, we're closed." and bla bla bla, i hear you, but you don't see MY situation, where as, I AIN'T closed, and I AM here now. So we go back and forth on this, and i do let a nice blue haired lady with her fold up cart out, and we're being civil, but the teamster, he's getting mad. And i seize the opportunity to say something i've always wanted to say.

"OH! I see how you do. you're doing this CUZ I'M WHITE!!! is that it?!!!"

but i couldn't hold it. I had the shades, but that was funny, so, you know, the three of us started laughing at the same time, and it was good, and the sun was setting, and everyone looked real nice in the golden afternoon light, even the teamster's gold teeth had a little sparkle on 'em. It was nice. like we all bonded, but still, i wasn't getting in. So, the teamster he says, "listen, if you go around to the side, and ring the bell, they can get the package for you." and i said, "sure. like there even IS an around the side. And besides, the package ain't back there. it's right there behind you in the pick up window dude. Why do you want to make me walk all around the building, to ring a bell so some guy can walk all the way to the back, to see what i want, and then come all the way back up to the front to get my package, and then come all the way to the back to give it to me? I mean, that just doesn't make sense..." (of course turning my head to the manager to confirm, that it simply wouldn't make sense)

Having wasted enough of both of their's time, i figured, sure. i'll take a crack at the 'round the back technique, knowing it was likely to be futile, but at least we're getting a story out of it.

The manager says, i really have to lock this door, and the Teamster is fumbling with his keys, except, there's a new wrinkle in this story. See, during the scuffle with the Teamster, and the other guy ducking under his arm while i was rocking my air-jordan move, somehow one or all of us managed to break the key off in the door.

(!!!)

The teamster doesn't like this for a few reasons. One is, since he's the security man, he now has to stand by at that door while they call a locksmith and get the new key made. Another is, it now looks like he may in fact have been more aggressive with me than absolutely necessary right in front of his manager. Oh, and of course, lastly, he most CERTAINLY is not going home at 5 o'clock.

I'm feeling like that's fair, but not quite fair enough. The one thing i like, and i will always respect, is that the manager didn't bow to me. Much as i would have liked to get my package, he didn't make the teamster look like an idiot for not letting me in. He stood up for his guy. When you get right down to it, that's the way i like it. I respect people who stand up for their guys. They don't back down to reason or anything, because your work is your second family, and when the shit hits the fan, you gotta back up your crew. This is something that i really liked witnessing, even though he was hiding behind Union Rules in doing so, the core of the event boils down to Me vs. THEM. And THEY were standing strong, together. So, Props to them. Seriously. I work, feel and believe that way too. When i had a gig at Sd, nobody came between the people i worked with, clients are right sure, to a point, but when it comes to backing up my guys, i had their backs. And i will always be that way.

So, i went round the back. I rang the bell. Nobody came. But me? i'm already there. i've got time. I ring it again. But, (surprise surprise) the manager comes. He says, "man. i can't get your package." I say, "look how much time we spend on this. it's so easy. you just get the package, i go away, problem solved. I don't have to come back, you don't have to see me again, it's all bueno."

but it's not going to happen. So i figure i'll just stall him for a while. At least, i mean this, at the VERY least, HE'S being inconvenienced too. We got into a conversation about how i could file my complaint. The names of the people i want to mention in the complaint, all of that, but me? i'm not going to file a complaint, i just want my package.

Seizing on this Age of Terror, he strikes on an idea. "you know, you're being back here is a breech of security..." to which i replied, "well. you shouldn't have told me to come back here, but on top of that, there's a hand painted sign right here that says 'employees, enter here. All others ring bell.' Me? i'm All Others. I'm totally qualified to be here. I'm not an employee, i'm an other, and at the very least, i get to ring this bell."

LONG STORY SHORT.

I went home without the package. But not because they wouldn't get it. (well maybe) but mostly because i knew they weren't going to get it, and i would have the opportunity to check them out the next morning.

Which is what i did. And in the process, i drank two full throttles on the way over. I got my package no problem, and also, i got the pictures you'll see in today's post. Well, the ones that start after my fridge. You see, i was in the process of merging some of my photo libraries, and kept running into little crashes, so i got bored of it and decided to clean out the fridge. After that, i went to bed. And when i woke, i went and got my package.

In the package? Well. i'll tell you. I got a copy of Steinbeck's Sweet Thursday, and the Scott Kelby photoshop CS2 book. I was thinking i could stand to learn some photoshop for a change of pace.

let's see if anything comes of it.

and you? oh, do have a nice day.

love, dTown | 39˚ | listening to Geto Boys

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

dan, what's a full throttle?

i find it very refreshing that your "because I'm white" comment cracked them up instead of getting them to slap you.

i would've just given you your damn package. but that's me.

7:08 PM  
Blogger Lorna Wren said...

hahahahaha...people, i swear. glad you got the package and got to clean out the fridge.

9:48 PM  
Blogger IF THE BIRDS KNEW said...

I always catch shit at the Red Hook Post Office ALWAYS...and I never, ever get my package...sometimes it gets sent back to the sender without me even knowing I had a package to pick up. DOOOD. Awesome tale.

6:38 PM  

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