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Not just any postcard, mind you—an oversized one. Apparently, my rebellious 5x7 piece of cardstock crossed the sacred threshold of USPS dimensions and was immediately reclassified as First-Class Mail. I had unknowingly entered the realm of serious postal business.

The clerk, God bless her procedural soul, looked me dead in the eye and asked, “Is there anything perishable, fragile, or liquid inside?”

I blinked. “It’s a postcard.”

She nodded solemnly. “I still have to ask.”

Of course she did. Because who knows what kind of dangerous liquids I might have smuggled between the glossy photo of a lighthouse and my heartfelt message about lobster rolls.

Meanwhile, the line behind me began to shift from polite patience to full-blown mob mentality. I could feel the heat of 12 strangers silently judging me for holding up their stamp-buying, package-sending, life-critical errands. One guy sighed so loudly I thought he lost a lung.

I wanted to shout, “I’m not the problem! The postcard is too ambitious! It dreams beyond its dimensions!”

But instead, I just stood there, answering the same question for each of my oversized postcards like I was on trial for mail fraud.

So if you’re planning to send a postcard that dares to be slightly larger than average, be prepared. You’re not mailing a memory. You’re entering a bureaucratic battlefield.

Not just any postcard, mind you—an oversized one. Apparently, my rebellious 5x7 piece of cardstock crossed the sacred threshold of USPS dimensions and was immediately reclassified as First-Class Mail. I had unknowingly entered the realm of serious postal business. The clerk, God bless her procedural soul, looked me dead in the eye and asked, “Is there anything perishable, fragile, or liquid inside?” I blinked. “It’s a postcard.” She nodded solemnly. “I still have to ask.” Of course she did. Because who knows what kind of dangerous liquids I might have smuggled between the glossy photo of a lighthouse and my heartfelt message about lobster rolls. Meanwhile, the line behind me began to shift from polite patience to full-blown mob mentality. I could feel the heat of 12 strangers silently judging me for holding up their stamp-buying, package-sending, life-critical errands. One guy sighed so loudly I thought he lost a lung. I wanted to shout, “I’m not the problem! The postcard is too ambitious! It dreams beyond its dimensions!” But instead, I just stood there, answering the same question for each of my oversized postcards like I was on trial for mail fraud. So if you’re planning to send a postcard that dares to be slightly larger than average, be prepared. You’re not mailing a memory. You’re entering a bureaucratic battlefield.
[–] • 4 pts

I thought Russian Post service was completely FUBAR and a clown show dunked by everyone, but somehow it's reassuring to know that you folks have exact same situation over there too.

[–] • 2 pts

Fucking kek.

My mom tried to mail her grandson a birthday card (to the Czech Republic) and was flat out told that the country didn't exist. She's been here quite a few times so to call her perplexed would be an understatement.

The mail clerk finally called her supervisor over (a White woman) and my mom was told that the Czech Republic had been replaced by (newspeak) Chechia.

What the actual fuck?!? Some nigger in SoCal sat there and told my mom, with a straight face, that an entire country didn't even exist. It's even funnier since my mom (now retired) was one of the top dogs at USPS for over 40 years. She took the whole incident in stride though since she had seen this kind of shit infinite times during her career.

Just for the record, if I mention the word "Czechia" to any local over here not a single person knows what I'm even saying, FFS, these people had a revolution to win the name "Czech Republic" and USPS thinks with the stroke of a digital pen they can take that away from these people?

Not gonna happen.

[–] • 1 pt (edited )

Strange I had to abandon my post office visit they were at lunch. To pay .78 for oversize postcards for the business….unmade my own. Half a 8.5x11 cut in mostly half (not exact, but who cares they won’t have 2 cards to compare)

I’ll stop by after lunch.

[–] • 1 pt

If there is a line at the Post Office where you live you might want to reconsider your life choices.

[–] • 1 pt

The is your friend, and will keep the people behind you in line from hating your guts too much. Maybe.

!

[–] • 1 pt

Yea, I misunderstood how complicated it would get to apply proper postage. I thought perhaps I might only need to add a stamp or 2 and I'd be out.