Christmastime in the Emerald City

{July 26, 2007}   Fail, fail, fail.

So at work I stamp the mail for clients in one of those uber-clunky wonder works that prints on a professional mass-mailing type stamp. Makes it look all professional, as though your company were a large and established one, as opposed to one comprised of four people sitting in a triangular room with nary a fake plant. We charge for this convenience, naturally. Cost plus twenty percent. As it is I who stamps the mail, it is I who also records who has used postage and how much. Our go-to girl then collects my report, adds the twenty percent and slaps it on their monthly invoice.

Pretty simple, really. Because, as with most mail, when clients drop off their bundles, each envelope generally has a neatly pre-printed return address with their logo. Or, failing that, a handwritten return address. Or, if they are sending a personal letter with no company name, they will stick on a post-it note so that I will know who to bill.

One company, on the other hand, does not understand this concept. A piece of mail was found amongst the pile, with our address in the top left corner, but no company name. It could belong to any of the companies here. So, I placed it on my countertop in hopes that someone would recognize it as theirs. This way I would know who to bill for the fifty-two cents, and I would know who to smack for being an idiot.

I did not end up smacking. I ended up being flabbergasted at an even greater display of idiocy. Our go-to girl relayed this story to me, as I was on lunch at the time.

The client in question wanders over to drop off more mail, sees the envelope sitting on the counter, and looks at it with dismay. She stabs her finger pointedly at the general vicinity of stampage. “This is ours!” she says.

“Um, yes,” says our go-to girl. “You didn’t put your company name on it. We need to know who’s it is so we can bill you for it.”

“Oh,” she says. “But our address is on it.”

“Yes. Everyone here has that address.”

Go buy your own stamps. Dummies don’t deserve professional looking mail.


[…] I know for a fact because I record everything I stamp and bill. Right down to the address and suite number. And I can call it up on my handy dandy computer whenever you like. I also know for a fact that I had stamped a mail item of theirs because they managed to make idiots of themselves on that day too. […]

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