There is something seriously wrong with this U.S. Post Office. Seriously.
Perhaps it is the duty station that all USPS employees get reassigned to after being voted out of their previous workplaces.
Perhaps some of their postal officers aim to fuck up simply because they enjoy watching the world burn.
Countless times I have had other people's (neighbours, and even persons from across the fucking valley, inexplicably) correspondence in my box. Countless times. I can only imagine that some of my mail might have ended up in Edwin Paduca's hands.
Today, I find a key. Sweet! Some dumb shit I purchased has already arrived. I excitedly insert said key and turn the lock ...
I find stuff -- possibly dumb shit -- but, it is all addressed to some other dude I do not know. Four or five packages/parcels. What. The. Fuck.
Now I am forced to go meet one of my neighbours (a Vegas no-no).
There is something seriously wrong with this U.S. Post Office. It fucking sucks! - E