Yet another post office story

I could write a book just on post office stories.

I went this week with the following items:

• A business envelope addressed to Turkey (not to "a turkey," but to someone who lives in "the country of Turkey," lest someone suggest I am name-calling, which I am not).
• A business envelope addressed to the USA.
• Two more-square-than-rectangle shaped white envelopes addressed to the USA.
• A yellow more-square-than-rectangle shaped envelope addressed to France.
• An 8x11 envelope filled with two books, folded in half and taped together so that it is shaped like a package (which is really what it is), but in an envelope, addressed to France.

I waited in the long line for the woman behind the counter to help me because as is usual for me, I did not have enough change for the do-it-yourself machine. When it finally came to be my turn, I handed her my large stack of international mail. She picked up the Turkey envelope first, put it on the scale, and typed Turkey into the computer.

Something clearly went wrong.

She squinted at the machine, shook her head in confusion, reached over to the envelope, picked it up, and then placed it back onto the scale. After a moment and another attempt to type Turkey into the computer, she said, "I don't believe it." She looked at me with a sheepish apologetic look on her face and said, "My computer just crashed. Sorry."

She directed me to the other line, to which I moved and began my wait all over again. When I got to the front of that line, I handed her my large stack of international mail. She seemed a little perplexed, but the ever-capable French governmental worker will not be stumped by an envelope to Turkey, oh no! She will prevail!

She sorts it all and decides to work on the stack to the US first. They get stamped. Then she eyes the Turkey envelope, types it in, and gets a stamp out of the machine. We're good, right? Because the other things are for France, which should not be too difficult for a French postal worker.

She picks up the yellow more-square-than-rectangle envelope and says, "This doesn't work in France."

So I can mail one that shape the the Unites States--across an ocean?!--but I can't mail it here in France?! I ask her why not, and she replies, "Because I have to click 'personal letter' or 'business documents.' It's clearly not a business document (eyeing that canary yellow with suspicion), nor a personal letter. What IS this?!"

"It's a personal letter...in a card. A canary yellow card." (Okay, I didn't say the canary yellow part.)

She clicks "personal letter" in the computer, and shocker of all shockers! the computer gives her a stamp. It's clear that she's amazed that such an envelope can, actually, be mailed in France.

Then she picks up the small package and says, "This doesn't work either. Is it a package? Is it a letter? It's neither. How can I mail this?"

Now obviously I have never worked in a post office. Nor do I have good experiences when in them. But I have mailed my fair share of items around the world, and I am of the belief system that anything can be mailed for a price. If Donald Trump wanted to mail me an elephant, someone would figure out how to get a stamp to stick on the thing's trunk and I would have to find somewhere to house that elephant, because it would end up on my doorstep here in France. (Actually, it wouldn't...because the French postman would probably say, "I can't deliver this.")

Anyway, I stare at her for a moment. Did the postal woman just ask me how to mail my package? Can't she just stick it on the scale, and put a stamp according to the weight? No. She's got to click either package or letter, and the fact that it is neither is blowing her mind.

"Can it be a letter? Because that's probably cheaper and easier than a package, right?"

"Yes, with a package, you'd have to fill out this form." Because this is France, and of course there is a form for everything.

"Then it's a letter."

Her mind blows right in front of me, and I see smoke coming out of her ears as she clicks letter in the computer, weighs the package, and is shocked to see that the computer accepts the weight of it as a letter.

I wanted to say, "Now, that wasn't so difficult, was it?" but she still seemed in shock.

Post offices. What is it with me and them?