It's Important to Remember Who Sorts the Mail

One of my daily tasks is to sort and deliver mail to designated mail slots. For the most part this is relatively uneventful as most of it is business mail or advertisements. But occasionally personal mail rolls through. This is also typically uneventful; a magazine here, a periodical there, a personal letter every so often. But lately I have noticed a good deal of Victoria's Secret catalogs coming to one person in particular.

Let's call her Victoria.

To be fair to Victoria she's not bad, so it's not weird or gross. But it is intriguing. In absolute, TMI, full disclosure there are a number of cougars who roam the office. Disproportionately than any other workplace I have been in, which makes one wonder about a number of things among them HR. But returning to the subject at hand, I can't help but be very curious about this cat.

Highway to Where?

Aaron: [Standard Greeting.]
Pastor: Hi, yes, I would like to speak to the person in charge of putting the music on the radio?
A: Excuse me?
P: Who is in charge of your music? The Music Director?
A: Ok, what is this regarding?
P: The song Highway to Hell was played.
A: All right.
P: And I am offended.
A: Ok.
P: I'm a pastor and my son was singing the song when I picked him up from school. He was with another family and they went to a pizza place. He heard your song somewhere. And now he's singing it.
A: Ok, well I'm not sure what to tell you.
P: I'm a Christian. You understand? This song offends me. I don't want my son singing it. Or listening to your music.
A: Alright, well, I suppose you would want to speak the Program Director (this is true) but they are in a meeting (not true) but I can put you through to her voicemail (also true).
P: Ok. Let's do that. But I am offended.

I Had This Conversation at the Urinals

DJ: How's the front desk, Aaron?
Aaron: Fine. A lot of people calling without anything to say.
DJ: Same thing on the Request Line.

(Flush.)

It's comforting to know (in perhaps a sympathetic way) that the stupidity of humanity permeates the lives of those who deal with the public without special discretion.

I Make Great Mix CD's

Aaron: [Standard Greeting.]
DJ of the Future: Hi. I wanted to know about getting my playlist on the air.
A: You'll want to call the Request Line. I can give you the num-
DJotF: No, I want my playlist.
A: I guess, I don't know what you mean.
DJotF: Like my radio station.
A: Oh.
DJotF: Can you tell me how to do that?
A: Well, I don't really have any information about that.
DJotF: Well how would I go about getting a radio station?
A: I'm not sure. I suppose you'd have to contact the FCC about getting the license to broadcast on a specific frequency.
DJotF: Do you have their number?
A: Ummm, not off hand. But I bet if you go to their website, they should list contact info.
DJotF: Hmmm. Ok. Thank you.

(click.)

CFG =/= Dead

She just walked by. Twice. And the sickening smug look on her face as I buzzed made me sick.


- Aaron

Cash for Fired?

I haven't seen CFG in days. Vacation? Or Firing?

One can only hope for the best.


- Aaron

The mail comes twice. It comes in the afternoon between 11 and 1 and it also comes after everyone leaves. In the morning when I walk in there's usually a mail bin with less than a dozen or so letters tucked neatly behind the door or under the front desk coutner.

Today when I walked in there was a bin with the following note:

There is no MAIL today, Empty P.O. Box.
it happens once in while. Thanks.
- Postal Express

I wish I could tell Postal Express that I really wasn't upset. I don't really care. Why even leave a bin?

I'm half tempted to leave a bin with a note for Postal Express that says,

Thank you kindly for the note. Currently in the 2nd Stage of Grief: Anger.

Cordially Yours,
Front Desk



-Aaron