Bob Visits the Post Office
"I'm telling you, I deserve a credit! I've been a customer for 3 days and I am extremely unsatis---HEY!!! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY!!" Bob blew his horn and muttered explicits at the squirrel who had dared cross his path. It had been a busy day for Bob; WalMart, Burger King, and Cingular all insisted on hiring incompetent fools. Pulling into his drive, Bob had mentally begun writing the letters he would be sending out regarding local service. The mayor should really have a better handle on his town.
Approaching his door, Bob sniffed the air. What was that horrible smell!?!? Noticing a brown box on the mat by the door, he read the return address and realized Granny Smith had tried to send him a cake again. It wasn't the first time she had forgot that cake was perishable and sent it to him regular ground shipping. How dare the Postal system take advantage of his poor old Granny!
He picked up the box, took another whiff, and shoved it in his car. Bob took a moment to yell at his children, playing unsupervised in the yard, and took off to forge a new battle...Bob vs. the United States Postal Service!
Marie glanced at the clock on the wall opposite the long counter she was leaning on. Only 20 minutes till she could leave for the day. She glanced around to see no-one else in the office, and pulled out her cell phone to text Daniel, her boyfriend, and tell him she'd be at his house soon. He responded to tell her he was counting the minutes.
Letting out a sigh, Marie straightened up and winced when she saw Bob walk through the door. Earlier in the week, she had witnessed him screaming and throwing sauce packets at the manager of Taco Bell. Why did he have to come in on her shift???
"Hi, can I help you? Need some stamps??" Please let this be simple, she thought.
"No, I am very unsatisfied with my service," Bob said, face red with anger. When Marie just stared back at him in response, his face got redder. "Do you hear me!?!? This cake is no good. And it was delivered to my porch today, stinkin up the whole house! I demand to speak to the person who allowed my granny to send this cake via ground shipping."
"Okay, sir. Does your grandma live here in town?"
"No, you piece of sh!t idiot, she lives in Alabama! I demand a credit!" Bob's face got redder and redder, and Marie tried hard not to laugh. Who tried to get a credit from the post office when their senile grandmother made a shipping mistake?
"Okay, sir. I have no way of knowing how or why your grandmother would send a cake through the mail to you. But we don't issue credits." Marie pushed the box with the spoiled cake back across the counter to Bob. "I suggest that you take it up with her, remind her that cake goes bad, and move on with your life."
"Excuse me?? You little bitch, I don't think so! Let me speak to your manager! I want a credit, and I want a new f**ken cake." Bob was pleased with his new demand, as he knew they didn't keep cakes at the post office. Now, even the manager couldn't help him without making a lot of personal effort. But Bob knew that as the customer, he was always right.
Joe Parker was just entering the lobby, ready to leave for the evening, when he saw the red-faced Bob standing there looking like the devil. "Is there a problem?" He asked.
After explaining the situation to Joe, Bob was even madder. How DARE they question him, and make him wait for his cake and credit. He told Joe that this was not the first time his grandma had been tricked. "We have been loyal customers....FOREVER!"
"Well, Bob. Unfortunately, we can't get you a new cake. And we can't issue credits. I'm sorry that the other post office
let your grandma send you a cake ground shipping, you should probably call her and tell her not to send it that way again."
"This is not my granny's fault. If I don't get compensation for my time, my cake, and the long-distance call I will have to make to granny, and if I don't get that NOW, I will take my business elsewhere." Bob gave a threatening look. Now he had them. "And the minute I leave here, I will be sending a letter to the local congressman to let them know how you treat your LOYAL customers."
Far from threatened, Joe Perry started to laugh. "Is this a joke?"
"NO, you A$$hole! THIS IS NOR A F**KEN JOKE!!"
"Well, Bob," Joe said, wiping tears from his eyes. "I fail to see how you will take your business elsewhere. We are the UNITED STATES POSTAL SERVICE...otherwise known as, the only way to get mail from here to there in the US. So how exactly do you plan to mail those letters to your congressman now?"
"I-I..I'll open up my OWN post office. Yes, thats what I'll do. My own post office, where we won't take advantage of poor old ladies. And you will NEVER be allowed to send mail through us, and I'm going to sue you-" Bob started backing out the door- get everyone I know to send mail only through...the United Bobs Postal Service...and your incompetent little business will go under faster than you can say BOB! So f*ck you, go to hell! You just wait and see..."
With that, Bob turned and left, starting his car and running over the curb before realizing he needed to REVERSE out of the parking lot. He was flicking off Joe and Marie, cussing and yelling with no regards to the people staring after him.
Once he disappeared around a corner, Marie turned to Joe and said slowly.... in all that is Holy was THAT???"
"That," he said locking up and walking away, "was Bob."
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