Discussion - Member to Member Sales - Research Center
Discussion - Member to Member Sales - Research Center
"Thanks for the interesting report. It parallels my usual experience here stateside. While not to the point of having no stamps at all, I have begun to carry a pair of dental pliers in my pocket when I go to post offices because getting the clerks to sell any real stamps other than fractional values and the current happy definitive is akin to pulling teeth.
Typically I'll ask for some nice stamps to use for mail.
(Blank stare) The clerk is thinking if the customer (me) is speaking Gaelic or Swahili, both equally likely ("0"). That is followed by some movement to sell a whole roll of Flags over whatever the current patriotic icon happens to be. I then add something about colorful commemorative stamps.
Another pause and possibly a spark of recognition. "Oh you want stamps for a collection ...." he or she mumbles, thinking; "Another reclusive crackpot got away from the home."
Then there is a search for the loose-leaf binder with slotted pages that must be somewhere behind the counter, "Hey, Bill, have you seen the funny stamp book ?"
Eventually the book is produced and a few recent commemorative sheetlets are shown. I pick out a few and answer the "collector" question. "No, I am going to use them" which generates a puzzled look and the comment "Use them ???" The clerk steps a half step back and the thought that I may be dangerous, thinking, "This guy may be a terrorist, perhaps I should call security now or the FBI as soon as he leaves."
Heaven forfend I ask for one of the high value Express mail stamps in the almost twenty dollar class.
"Definitely a terrorist, he must be sending a bomb, I better memorize his description for when I am interviewed by CNN."
And so it goes. I am sure one of those policed identikit drawings from the clerk's description hangs in the break room of many post offices, but sometimes I actually get some nice stamps to use on mail.
Charlie"
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I once asked at a postal substation here in Vancouver if I they had any new commemoratives. Said the clerk, "What's a commorative? In truth, I don't know what acommorative is!
In my youth, at the dawn of my collecting experience, the postmaster of my small village's post office would tell me whenever she got new stamps in, and would patiently search through sheets of stamps looking for well-centered plate blocks, and then very carefully tear them from the sheet. I have very fond memories of those times; I've brought them to today's readers in my web page, Box 28 Arenas Valley NM.
Bob
P.S. One thing I learned in writing that web page is the word "postmaster" is gender-free. Males and females are postmasters, not postmistresses.
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A commorative is a stamp from the Comoro Islands.
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Thankyou for your account of your childhood post office..I read it aloud to my husband and he chuckled That is an almost impossible thing for him to do!!! We both enjoyed your story. I too had a small post office in the little community of Waterloo NS where I grew up. My Mom was post master from 1949 to 1956 and then the post office was moved to another community and we had rural mail delivered 3 days a week. Our kitchen was a gathering place on mail days as the locals would drop in to watch her sort through the mailbag and for them to pick up their mail..The teapot was always on the wood stove and sometimes cookies were available. We were Tim`s or Robins before coffee shops were cool.... Cheryl
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While the larger PO near us isn't quite as bad as Charlie's post, it does approach it at times--thus I get my stamps at the much smaller post office that is actually closer to us. At the small PO they keep a good supply of commoratives (hee-hee) and will save sheets for me. I guess, in a way, I'm in a much better spot than many of you. (But I still end up buying most stamps from the Cave, because if I don't get to the PO quickly, the best stamps are quickly snapped up.)
Roger
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I cannot complain about any of the clerks in my post office. They know their business, and in fact, one is a stamp collector. There are always the latest new issues on hand (just bought a sheet of the circus stamps that I use for postage for my stamp collectors). But, all is not hunky-dory, as the old saying goes, for the postmaster, a woman, is the postmaster from Hell. No doubt she is the devil. She is new at my post office, and I called to get an up-to-date price guide of all the changes. She told my clerks to tell me that they were not giving them out any more. My clerks used to photocopy them for me. I tried to phone her back, and kept getting a busy signal; I thought that she was probably roasting someone in Hell, but it was worse than that, as she had removed the phone from the hook. After two hours of no connection, I called my police department, and just said the phone does not answer. They then tried to call, with no pickup, so they sent a policeman to the post office, and it was then he discovered what she had done.
I notified the Postmaster General of her behavior, and although she is still there, she is acting much better. She knows now not to mess with Richaard.
My motto is, if there is a problem, always go to the top, as I also do with my cable company; I always contact the CEO, and he too knows my name.
Richaard
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Charlie (cdj1122) wrote this a few days ago, and I laughed so hard when I read it! I asked him if I could repost it here for your enjoyment. He's still in Hawaii last I heard. To put the quote in context, we were chatting with Irish collectors about the post offices in Ireland...
"Thanks for the interesting report. It parallels my usual experience here stateside. While not to the point of having no stamps at all, I have begun to carry a pair of dental pliers in my pocket when I go to post offices because getting the clerks to sell any real stamps other than fractional values and the current happy definitive is akin to pulling teeth.
Typically I'll ask for some nice stamps to use for mail.
(Blank stare) The clerk is thinking if the customer (me) is speaking Gaelic or Swahili, both equally likely ("0"). That is followed by some movement to sell a whole roll of Flags over whatever the current patriotic icon happens to be. I then add something about colorful commemorative stamps.
Another pause and possibly a spark of recognition. "Oh you want stamps for a collection ...." he or she mumbles, thinking; "Another reclusive crackpot got away from the home."
Then there is a search for the loose-leaf binder with slotted pages that must be somewhere behind the counter, "Hey, Bill, have you seen the funny stamp book ?"
Eventually the book is produced and a few recent commemorative sheetlets are shown. I pick out a few and answer the "collector" question. "No, I am going to use them" which generates a puzzled look and the comment "Use them ???" The clerk steps a half step back and the thought that I may be dangerous, thinking, "This guy may be a terrorist, perhaps I should call security now or the FBI as soon as he leaves."
Heaven forfend I ask for one of the high value Express mail stamps in the almost twenty dollar class.
"Definitely a terrorist, he must be sending a bomb, I better memorize his description for when I am interviewed by CNN."
And so it goes. I am sure one of those policed identikit drawings from the clerk's description hangs in the break room of many post offices, but sometimes I actually get some nice stamps to use on mail.
Charlie"
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re: Hilarious description of a stamp collector's typical trip to an American Post Office - Charlie style
I once asked at a postal substation here in Vancouver if I they had any new commemoratives. Said the clerk, "What's a commorative? In truth, I don't know what acommorative is!
In my youth, at the dawn of my collecting experience, the postmaster of my small village's post office would tell me whenever she got new stamps in, and would patiently search through sheets of stamps looking for well-centered plate blocks, and then very carefully tear them from the sheet. I have very fond memories of those times; I've brought them to today's readers in my web page, Box 28 Arenas Valley NM.
Bob
P.S. One thing I learned in writing that web page is the word "postmaster" is gender-free. Males and females are postmasters, not postmistresses.
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re: Hilarious description of a stamp collector's typical trip to an American Post Office - Charlie style
A commorative is a stamp from the Comoro Islands.
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08:32:43pm
re: Hilarious description of a stamp collector's typical trip to an American Post Office - Charlie style
Thankyou for your account of your childhood post office..I read it aloud to my husband and he chuckled That is an almost impossible thing for him to do!!! We both enjoyed your story. I too had a small post office in the little community of Waterloo NS where I grew up. My Mom was post master from 1949 to 1956 and then the post office was moved to another community and we had rural mail delivered 3 days a week. Our kitchen was a gathering place on mail days as the locals would drop in to watch her sort through the mailbag and for them to pick up their mail..The teapot was always on the wood stove and sometimes cookies were available. We were Tim`s or Robins before coffee shops were cool.... Cheryl
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re: Hilarious description of a stamp collector's typical trip to an American Post Office - Charlie style
While the larger PO near us isn't quite as bad as Charlie's post, it does approach it at times--thus I get my stamps at the much smaller post office that is actually closer to us. At the small PO they keep a good supply of commoratives (hee-hee) and will save sheets for me. I guess, in a way, I'm in a much better spot than many of you. (But I still end up buying most stamps from the Cave, because if I don't get to the PO quickly, the best stamps are quickly snapped up.)
Roger
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re: Hilarious description of a stamp collector's typical trip to an American Post Office - Charlie style
I cannot complain about any of the clerks in my post office. They know their business, and in fact, one is a stamp collector. There are always the latest new issues on hand (just bought a sheet of the circus stamps that I use for postage for my stamp collectors). But, all is not hunky-dory, as the old saying goes, for the postmaster, a woman, is the postmaster from Hell. No doubt she is the devil. She is new at my post office, and I called to get an up-to-date price guide of all the changes. She told my clerks to tell me that they were not giving them out any more. My clerks used to photocopy them for me. I tried to phone her back, and kept getting a busy signal; I thought that she was probably roasting someone in Hell, but it was worse than that, as she had removed the phone from the hook. After two hours of no connection, I called my police department, and just said the phone does not answer. They then tried to call, with no pickup, so they sent a policeman to the post office, and it was then he discovered what she had done.
I notified the Postmaster General of her behavior, and although she is still there, she is acting much better. She knows now not to mess with Richaard.
My motto is, if there is a problem, always go to the top, as I also do with my cable company; I always contact the CEO, and he too knows my name.
Richaard
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