Mooing, not mooning, the post office
Regina’s Grandmother Edith Hartin didn’t go to court when she sued a man for payment of a milk cow during the Depression. Instead, she took her case to downtown Opp.
She stalked him on Opp’s main street, shouting “M-o-o-o-o, m-o-o-o-o....” When people asked her why she was doing that, she told them. He couldn’t stand the humiliation and paid.
Hartin blood contains get-even platelets. So be warned U.S. Postal Service!
Granny Grace, Regina’s 88-year-old mom, didn’t get a single valentine on time. Not one.
She blamed the Postal Service, which I blamed, also.
You’d think that from Monday morning to Wednesday a valentine could make its way from Decatur to Andalusia, which, like Opp, is in Covington County.
You’d think, too, that if a fearful daughter and son-in-law paid for priority mail, delivery would have been no later than Wednesday.
You’d think a lot of things if you first tried to mail something from Decatur on Sunday.
You’d think the automatic stamp dispenser would work. Several people attempting to buy stamps thought so.
But no. The coins we put in the machine bought us the message that the machine was taking only coins at that time. That obviously meant also that it wasn’t giving out stamps, just taking coins.
We spent $1.11 for nothing.
Even if we’d gotten stamps, a notice on the wall indicated we had plenty of time to mail the valentines because no mail would leave Decatur until 3:45 p.m. Monday.
So Regina returned to the post office Monday morning, and paid $12 and some cents to send priority valentines to Granny and to our grandchildren in Atlanta and Savannah, Ga.
Two out of the three reaching their destination on time probably isn’t bad for the Postal Service. But those folks are still to hear from a mad Granny who is only a five-hour drive away.
I hope she moos them.