I work in a Canadian post office that sells boxes designed to be sent only within Canada. We have specific boxes for international deliveries. The Canadian boxes have a sign over their display, in BOLD and CAPITALISED letters, saying “CANADA ONLY.”

A customer picks up one of the boxes and, without talking to anyone, writes down an address in the US. He brings it up to me after he’s placed his items inside.

Me: “Yeah, so if you take a look at where you grabbed this box from, it says, ‘CANADA ONLY, ‘ which means it is for Canada only.”

Customer: “You never told me that.”

Me: “I’m sure we haven’t met before, or that you never asked me.”

Customer: “But you should have told me when you saw me grabbing the box.”

Me: “I would love to shout over three customers ahead of you, but the person who trained me said, don’t do it because people can read.”

Customer: *Looking at the box that he’s ruined with an unusable address.* “What are my options now?”

Me: “Send this to someone in Canada?”

I was tasked with shipping some boxes from the local UPS. I was waiting in line when a woman came in with one package. She saw my dolly full of items and let out a long, dramatic sigh. By the time I was second in line (also behind someone with a lot of packages to send), she spoke up.

Woman: “I guess I’m going to use my whole lunch hour waiting here…”

I say nothing, but I note that it’s 9 AM and wonder how often a lunch break is this early.

Woman: “I can’t believe people think it’s okay to take a whole car full of packages and try to ship them at once.”

I say nothing.

Woman: “Like other people don’t even exist!”

The person in front of me leaves, meaning it’s my turn.

Employee: “Hi, shipping out?”

Me: “Yes, I—”

Woman: “—Can I go in front of you?”

Me: “Um. I mean, I guess?”

Woman: “I won’t be holding you up?”

Me: *Jokingly.* “Well, I’m paid by the hour so…”

Woman: *As she’s stepping in front of me.* “You know, that’s pretty rude!”

Me: “…How?”

Woman: “You’re using company time to goof off!”

Me: “I—”

Woman: “—I have half a mind to report you!”

Me: “Ma’am, I—”

Woman: “—If I ran a company and I found out that you were just standing around on the clock, I would dock your pay! I cannot believe you think it’s acceptable to stand here and lollygag!”

Me: “But you—”

Woman: “—You know what? I will report you! Who do you work for?”

Me: “And say what? That I let you go in front of me and you stood there complaining that I was wasting time in line doing something I was instructed to do? That you’re wasting the employee’s time yelling at me? That you’re wasting your own lunch hour?”

She turned back to the employee without another word to me. She did, however, have a lot of questions for the employee, mostly generic and seemingly unrelated to sending her own package. Every other question, she would glance over her shoulder at me. When she was done, her two-minute transaction took almost ten.

Woman: “I hope you enjoyed wasting your company time!”

Me: “Sure did! Have a great day!”

She stomped off. Since all of my packages had pre-paid labels from the company account, my turn at the desk took less than five minutes.

I work in a busy store that has an online ordering pickup counter.

Customer: “Hey! I need my parcel.”

Me: “Of course, sir. If you take your slip to the pickup cashier in front of the parcel office, they’ll get it for you.”

Customer: “No, no. You’re right here. Just get it for me.”

Me: “I’m not in the parcel office, and I can’t leave my section right now. The cashier will be happy to—”

Customer: *Interrupting.* “I don’t have time to wait in line.”

Me: *Gesturing to the sign on the parcel office door a few feet away.* “That’s why the slip says to take it to the cashier; they’re the only ones who can access it.”

Customer: *Holds up the slip like a winning lottery ticket.* “So you can’t just grab it?”

Me: “No, sir. The cashier will scan it out for you.”

Customer: “But you’re right here!”

Me: “And the parcels aren’t.”

He sighs dramatically, stomps toward the checkout… and ends up standing there for maybe thirty seconds before it’s his turn.

Customer: *Grumbling loudly to the cashier.* “If they didn’t waste my time, I’d be out of here already.”

Me: *Muttering to myself while restocking.* “And if you’d just read the slip, you would’ve been gone five minutes ago.”

I had a special delivery on my post round the other day. Such an item needs to be delivered by 1 PM on that day and needs to be signed for by the recipient.

I knock on the door and ring the bell (I always do both in case the bell does not work) and wait an appropriate length of time for the customer to come to the door to take ownership of his package. 

Despite the fact that there are two cars in the driveway, nobody comes to the door, so I fill in the official card that informs him of the failed delivery, push it through the door, and carry on with my round. 

A few houses down the road, a man comes panting up to me, waving the card in my face.

Man: *Demandingly.* “Where’s my special delivery!”

I dig it back out of the mailbag.

Me: *Casually.* “I hope there wasn’t a problem that meant you couldn’t answer the door?”

I asked this in case I had to prepare to apologise for getting him out of the bath, or the shower, or off the toilet, or whatever.

Man: “I was watching the telly. Couldn’t you have waited a bit longer?”

I told this anecdote to my colleagues, all of whom agree that this was outrageously bad manners.

I am now a retired postal worker. Many years ago, I was assigned to the office that took care of complaints, passport applications, and other things that the window clerks didn’t do.

A woman came in with an opened letter and was concerned because it was a chain letter. She knew that chain letters are illegal, but the letter said she would be doomed if she didn’t send it on to ten more people. I took the report for the Inspection Service, but she was still quite worried that she would be doomed if she didn’t comply.

Me: “No problem, ma’am. Raise your right hand and repeat after me. ‘I will never send a chain letter.'”

She did so. I then told her.

Me: “By the authority vested in me by the United States Postal Service, I hereby pronounce you un-doomed.”

She left happy and safe.