Post Office Misery

This wasn’t the blog post I had planned for today, but it just so happens that this has riled me so much I had to put it into words.

It all started on a cold Wednesday morning, it was ok though my parents had my daughter for a few hours. I set off on my errands and thought about a nice hot cuppa on my own to gather my thoughts.

First stop was a trip to the Post Office, this was my first mistake as I decided to go to the large one in Nottingham City Centre.

In I walked and looked around at this shiny new looking Post Office, to be greeted by a ‘what are you wanting to do’, ‘erm post a parcel’ I replied.

‘Down the end’ I was sternly advised, OK and off I walked to the end looking lost and bewildered. I couldn’t see anyone, I was looking at two walls of machines.

A woman walked faster past me to a guy tucked behind a desk at the end of the room, he advised her she needed to use a machine, off she walked chuntering to herself too.

Off I trotted to a machine, now might I add I am no technophobe but this is something you can’t risk getting wrong, otherwise the person at the other end will be penalised and this was a business parcel.

Faced with a barrage of questions I eventually got the point of paying and getting my sticker for the parcel, ‘how are you getting on’ a patronising voice bellowed from behind.

‘Does the fact I have to do this myself mean it is cheaper’ I asked?

‘Well you don’t get a discount for going through the self checkout at the supermarket do you’ was a rather rude reply.

Fair enough I thought, but the fact of the matter is at the supermarket I put my basket down, scan my items put my card in and pay.

With this I had to answer the following questions:

Is it a letter or a packet? Check if it goes through the slot on the postage checker.

Is it worth over £46?

Do you want it signed for?

Do you want it there the next day?

Do you want proof of postage? If so enter the postcode and house number!

Pay with your card.

Take the sticker from the machine and place on the parcel.

Put the parcel somewhere (not sure where, the grumpy guy took it off me)

Get someone to stamp the proof of postage.

So this is supposed to be quicker apparently and according to the guy who served me is better than waiting in line.

Whatever Post Office and Royal Mail, this is shambolic, some things are meant to be done by a human.

And finally to the total arse of a guy who ‘helped’ me, no it wasn’t the snow that had made me and by the sounds of it everyone else miserable it was poor service!

I just wanted it to be stress free, I just wanted to post a parcel. I am closing down my business and this is one thing I am thankful I won't have to do any more.

A nice post next time I promise!