A few days ago, I stopped in at the U.S. post office branch along Route 1A in Revere near the Ninety-Nine restaurant and the Marshall’s. I stopped there since it was on my way to work, and there’s parking. And there, in the space of about 25 minutes, I saw a microcosm of the mood so many of us are feeling these long, bitter cold, COVID-19 days.
First off, there are only about six people allowed inside. It goes without saying that masks are required before entering. The markers on the floor show you how far apart you should stand and the lone postal agent stands behind a plastic shower-curtain shield with absolutely no contact between him and any customer. Did I mention he was working alone, although there was room at the counter for a second agent?
Anyway, this guy may have been having a bad day and that’s why he was especially surly, but something occurred that made me think this might be his personality.
I needed a priority envelope to mail some official papers. Did you know there’s a difference between the one with blue stripes and the one with red? I didn’t, and there’s nothing that explains that. So I picked the wrong one. After waiting in line while the postal agent snarkily explained to previous customers what they did wrong and how to fix it, I approached. He asked if I wanted one priority or the other. I asked what the difference was, and was told the red envelope would cost $26.35 and guaranteed for the next day, the blue one would be only $7.95 but wasn’t guaranteed for one day. Of course I had picked the wrong one, so I stepped out of line to grab the blue envelope and start all over again. Yeah, he was kind of surly, but I wasn’t too exercised about it.
But one of the other customers was. He had been told to go back and grab a padded envelope for his mail, then rudely told to put his mail in the envelope and seal it, because the agent wasn’t going to touch it.
The young guy had had enough. He told the postal agent that he had Googled this branch and it gets bad reviews all the time, that people hate it. He called the agent out on his rudeness toward him (and everyone else who had been here for waaaay too long). He said he wouldn’t tolerate also being treated like s@#&, and repeated the bad reviews this postal branch got.
The agent wasn’t impressed or chastened. He replied he didn’t care about the reviews and he got the same pay, no matter how many people complained.
And the postal agent wasn’t really any more civil to the next customers after the young guy left, still steaming. He was just as sullen as he had been when I first walked in.
Here’s the thing.
I feel for both of these guys.
When you need help from the guy behind the counter, even when it’s something as simple as mailing a letter in the right envelope, it adds to your stress level when you have so many choices, yet nothing is marked. If you pick the wrong envelope, and have to get back into a growing line, a five-minute errand can turn into a 25-minute one. It doesn’t get better when the person who is supposed to help makes you feel like s@#&.
But I also get that when you’re working alone, behind plastic shower curtains and having to repeat the same instructions over and over all day (because nothing is clearly marked for the customers), you’re probably going to get irritated. Your brain probably isn’t working, this person is asking this for the first time, even though I’m answering it for the 50th. Maybe “have a nice day” isn’t in your lexicon even on a good day, but being irritated and irritable just makes everyone feel bad.
My point is, we all need to work a little harder on basic civility. Behind our plexiglass, shower-curtain barriers, and masks, we are all feeling more out of sorts. If you’re overwhelmed because you’re working harder (or alone) in your job, it doesn’t feel better to be told to be grateful you have a job. You’re entitled to feel stressed, overwhelmed and even crabby. We’ve all been there. But we don’t have to stay there.
I’m no Pollyanna, preaching rainbows and butterflies, but can we all just take a collective breath from time to time? We’re all still hurting, waking up depressed, feeling disconnected. Some of us see a light at the end of the long pandemic tunnel, even as others believe we’re in a black hole with no way out.
Either way, if we don’t start being more civil to the few people we interact with day to day, we’re not going to feel any better, even when we are maskless, and no longer socially distant.
If we can try to give each other grace now and again, when this is behind us, those resentments from unnecessary surly encounters, won’t be all that’s left of us.
Cheryl Charles can be reached at [email protected].
