Mark Oppenheimer's Very Bad Awful Post Office Day

First, here is the letter I am sending:

Feb. 16, 2011

Dear Rep. DeLauro:

I am writing as a constituent of yours, a resident of the Westville neighborhood of New Haven who has a complaint about the 06515 branch of the United States Postal Service.

This morning, after dropping my eldest daughter off at pre-school on Harrison Street, I took my other two daughters, ages 2 and 6 months, and walked several yards to the post office to mail a scarf to Brooklyn. The scarf — this is relevant — was loose, not wrapped. Somebody left it behind in New Haven, and I was just mailing it back to her. When I got to the front of the line, with a baby in one arm and a 2-year-old tugging at my left leg, I asked the clerk working at the only open window if she could recommend a packing container for the scarf.

The clerk, without a smile or any kind words, pointed at the selection of packing material behind me and to my right. I walked over to the packing material and selected a small cardboard box, broken down and flattened out, needing to be assembled. I brought it back to her and said, "Would this do?"

"If the scarf fits, it will do," she said, sounding annoyed.

"OK," I said, "would you be willing to assemble the box for me, please?" I knew this was a slightly unorthodox request, but as the clerk could see, there was no way I could do it myself, as I was holding an infant.

"No," she said. "There is someone behind you in line." It was true, there was a woman behind me in line, although she quickly proved very helpful and suggested a bigger envelope, because she thought the box would not be big enough. In short, to recap: there were two customers in the whole post office, one had a baby, the other one seemed very sympathetic. It seemed as if maybe some USPS employee could go the extra mile for me and assemble a box or seal an envelope.

I got angry.

"You know what?" I said. "If I were at UPS right now, they would assemble this for me."

"Oh, well this isn't UPS," the clerk said, rather snidely.

"OK, fine, but I am here with two girls ages two and under," I said.

And then she said the unbelievable:

"So this is a pity party now," the clerk said.

Wow. Imagine a public servant talking to a customer that way. Mocking me for asking for help because my hands were tied with young children.

I asked to speak to the manager. He was not in. The union steward came out, and he smiled sympathetically, told me they were understaffed. Another clerk, unpeeling a banana, told me that she was just now going on break, but she would help me. She came out from behind the counter, put the scarf in the envelope the other customer had suggested, and wrote the address I dictated on the envelope. She was not apologetic for her co-worker's behavior -- perhaps she was in a tough position --but I was nonetheless grateful for her help. It was a professional thing to do. By this point a neighbor of mine had entered the post office, and she offered to pay for the mailing for me, allowing me to leave the post office.

I later spoke with the branch manager, Mark Koslowski, by phone, and he apologized profusely and promised nothing like this would happen again.

I would very much appreciate it if you would notify the New Haven postmaster, Tom Sullivan, of this problem, and ask him to do his part to ensure that the service at the Westville station improves.

Very truly yours,

Mark Oppenheimer

New Haven

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OK, where to begin?

I love the post office. When they were talking about closing branches, I wrote to Rep. DeLauro to ask her to do her part to keep my branch open. I love seeing neighbors there. I like the energy around holiday season. I like the fact that the existence of public mails means that my letters to New York subsidize another citizen's letters to Montana.

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