Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Mr. Customs Inspector, Why Do You Torture Me So?

Dear Sir,
While I am sure you are bored at your job, and thrilled overwhelmingly at the prospect of being allowed (if not downright encouraged!) to root through packages that are shipped from other countries, must you go out of your way to turn my day into a freakish nightmare?

When I went to the post office to pick up a package, I had no idea what it was. I was not aware that my pal Kris in Australia had already mailed out my long awaited Dark Knight armor. So surely, you can understand my chagrin when the man at the post office emerged from the back room to present this box to me:

My heart sank! Could it be that the stuff made it all the way across the ocean, only to fall into your hands, where it was rifled through and consequently crushed? Does latex armor even survive a good crushing?

Would it have really been so hard to pack the box up properly? Maybe even tape it together nicely, and then NOT dump a few boxes on top of it that were obviously REALLY heavy? When you did the online training course for your job, was there a module on how light stuff goes on top, heavy on bottom? Or did you just click through the training exercise and go straight to the multiple choice answers? You know the ones. Where the answer is so glaringly obvious that it's almost painful that your company bothered to ask? But then, by completing your training, you got put onto the "compliant" list, and as we all know, it's far more important to have the training marked as "completed" than "understood".

So my hat goes off to you, Mr. Customs Inspector, for putting in the minimal amount of care into your job, and getting paid the same amount as those who actually do give a damn about the quality of their work.

The Dark Knight Armor Purchasing Man.

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