2000oct20. I have a P.O. Box. When I got the P.O. box, they gave me a key. It didn’t work, so they said they were ordering new ones. It would take a month, two months for the keys to arrive. Because the keys are ordered from Washington D.C., currently our nation’s capitol.
So everytime I wanted my mail, I would have to stand in line with all of the other good citizens. Then, when it was my turn to go up to the counter, I would ask, politely, for my mail from the box.
The clerk, whoever it was, every single time, would look at me blankly. “Have you lost your key?” “Is there something wrong with the box?” etc. Every single time, I would patiently explain that I was never given the keys in the first place. There are only about six clerks at this branch – sometimes, I’d even get to explain what happened to the clerk who originally processed the order.
Over and over, and over again. I’ve explained this curious phenomenon to each clerk at least ten times.
It’s been like this for five months, twenty days now.
So, if you happen to be getting a P.O. Box, make sure you get some keys, I guess.