Friday, October 21, 2005

I forgot to add a postscript to my rant about Walgreen. The post office does not deliver packages to my house because we live on a seasonal road and they are forbidden by federal law (so we were told) from driving down a seasonal road. [Aside: After jerking us off for several years, the county road commission informed us that they were forbidden by state law from improving our road, then told us we were forbidden by state law from improving it ourselves because we would be taking work away from the unionized county road workers who were not working on our road. Seems to be a lot of laws that prevent government employees from doing anything or private citizens from working around their inert bodies.] Our mail box is at the end of our road, and anything that doesn't fit results in one of those little pink notes to come pick something up at the post office. When Nestina picked up my box of (damaged, piss warm) insulin, the clerk gave her a phone number and asked her to call with directions to our road. Nestina wasn't familiar with the road names out by us, so she asked me to call. Now understand, I'm thinking there has to be some sort of miscommunication. How could the post office that delivers mail to my mailbox six days a week not know where my road is?

Well, it turns out that was exactly what the post office wanted to know: how to get from the post office to my road. It seems little fairies have been delivering my mail, because the post office had no clue where we live.


I asked them why it mattered where our house was when they couldn't deliver packages anyway. The clerk mumbled something about "express packages" and "Traverse City." So I am now of the understanding that if you send something to us Express Mail, the Traverse City post office will drive it over to our house. Or something. I'm not really clear on the details, but then neither is the post office. Universal symmetry is maintained.

Remember, these are the same people that know better than you how to educate your children, what you should and should not watch on your TV, and how your house should be built.

I wonder if there is a form of plastic surgery that will make my eyes look oriental. Then when the Chinese take over, I can claim I am a long-lost cousin of Yao Ming.

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