I'm "on-call" at a nonprofit that's owned by a family friend; I have a key and show up as needed for assembling/posting mailings and information packets. I was down there yesterday (and a few hours today by myself) getting some stuff out. This happened yesterday afternoon.
I'm sure everyone knows the "rules" pasted on every mailbox in the US: anything over 13 ounces must be taken in person to the PO. The prez tends to get frantic about "did it go out" so I will run items down to the mailbox out front myself when I get a reasonable-sized stack.
Just as I exit the building to put our stuff in the mailbox (large stack of envelopes; I know how to put them in so the chute doesn't jam), I see a woman from the office building next door trying to stuff three small flat rate boxes (which clearly weigh more than one pound each) in. They barely clear the opening.
Me: Excuse me, you need to take those to the post office. They can't go in a box.
Cue a Glare like I climbed out of the sewer to impart this wisdom. Yes, I'm wearing sneakers because I was late leaving the house, but other than that I'm dressed like I belong in the building.
She gets the boxes to go in, but the chute and door are now jammed, meaning I have to clock an extra half-hour (half of which was waiting in line) and hoof it over to the post office.
On the way back into the office, I catch sight of the mail carrier trying to unwedge the boxes, one of which has ripped (it looked as if someone else tried to drop mail in and tried to jiggle it loose).
Carrier: Hey, you didn't happen to see who jammed these in, did you?
Me: I think she works in that office there.
Carrier: If something doesn't fit it doesn't fit. How do you NOT see the disclaimer when you open the box?
I'm sure everyone knows the "rules" pasted on every mailbox in the US: anything over 13 ounces must be taken in person to the PO. The prez tends to get frantic about "did it go out" so I will run items down to the mailbox out front myself when I get a reasonable-sized stack.
Just as I exit the building to put our stuff in the mailbox (large stack of envelopes; I know how to put them in so the chute doesn't jam), I see a woman from the office building next door trying to stuff three small flat rate boxes (which clearly weigh more than one pound each) in. They barely clear the opening.
Me: Excuse me, you need to take those to the post office. They can't go in a box.
Cue a Glare like I climbed out of the sewer to impart this wisdom. Yes, I'm wearing sneakers because I was late leaving the house, but other than that I'm dressed like I belong in the building.
She gets the boxes to go in, but the chute and door are now jammed, meaning I have to clock an extra half-hour (half of which was waiting in line) and hoof it over to the post office.
On the way back into the office, I catch sight of the mail carrier trying to unwedge the boxes, one of which has ripped (it looked as if someone else tried to drop mail in and tried to jiggle it loose).
Carrier: Hey, you didn't happen to see who jammed these in, did you?
Me: I think she works in that office there.
Carrier: If something doesn't fit it doesn't fit. How do you NOT see the disclaimer when you open the box?
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