Parcel-ly Her Problem

I used to live in an apartment complex with a locked mail room. When packages arrive, the receptionist is supposed to let the driver in and escort them to the mail room. For whatever reason, my package had been left at the receptionist’s desk on this day. I stopped by on my way home from work to collect my package and was met with a hostile glare.

Receptionist: “Is one of these yours?” 

She gestures to the stack of packages beside the desk.

Me: “Should be. [My Name], apartment [number].”

Receptionist: “You know, we aren’t supposed to take possession of mail like this.”

Me: “Yeah, I don’t know why—”

Receptionist: “If something happens and it goes missing, it’s our fault.”

Me: “Yeah, I—”

Receptionist: “I for one do not appreciate this extra workload.”

Is she blaming me?

Me: “Right, of course.”

Receptionist: “Here. Next time, make sure your instructions include the mail room.”

Oh. She is blaming me.

Me: “Why would the driver drop my package here if you let them in? I don’t—”

Receptionist: “Because the driver can’t wait five minutes, I guess.”

Me: *Connecting the dots.* “Oh. So the driver came, and you weren’t here.”

Receptionist: “Next time this happens, I’m calling the building manager, and you can take it up with him.”

Me: “Okay then.”

I reported the interaction to building management, making sure to point out that I felt like she was blaming *me* for the delivery driver arriving while she was away. Though I can’t confirm it, I heard that she was not only not at her desk when the driver arrived, she was barely there all day! Security cameras caught her being absent from her post (and the building) for over half the day, taking a trip to the nearest coffee shop and even returning once with several Target bags – the nearest store being twenty minutes away. She was quickly replaced by someone who stayed at the desk.