Next Friday, there is a staff meeting about the Mailbox…

All of the account department gathered to discuss the phenomenon also known as the 'Building's outgoing mailbox'. Sadly, at first I thought the meeting was a joke and I had managed to get out half of a laugh before my manager shot me a ‘shh!’ look before my manager’s manager realized I laughed, not coughed.

So….I daydreamed myself away that I was twenty two again. That life was wide open. That I would never sit in a meeting about a mailbox. I remembered when I was semi-broke, (oh wait, that hasn't changed, oh well, anyway), when I had nothing but a dog, a few name brand pairs of shoes and far too many paint brushes.

The Mailbox Email Continued…..

Within two minutes of this email having been sent to the entire office, I begin to receive the replies to it (as everyone is replying all: .

First isPayroll, Site Management is a close second, but these emails are closely followed by additional emails from my co-workers in Accounts Payable… the theme of all?

“Hey! Did you know we have an outgoing mailbox here in the building???”

At the fourteenth email I simply start deleting the emails with the words “Secure Outgoing Mail”, in the subject line. Perhaps there was a way that they knew this because then I began to have visitors. The sliding doors of my cube began to be repeatedly slammed back as the opening to the excited question,

“Have you heard about the Mailbox???”

I smiled for the sixth person, I looked politely at the seventh, the eighth person happened to be my manager and again, I do like him so I smiled again.

“Have you heard about the mailbox downstairs?”

I sighed, “Yes,” I gestured to my computer screen, “Yes I have.”

He glances over, chuckles and says the unthinkable, “Lets go on a field trip to see it!”

I look at him blankly.

“C’mon!!” he urges.

Ok.

Down the hall, down the elevator and there it still is, the outgoing secured mailbox.  A nice little golden plate above the lock advises the contents are picked up at noon and 5:30pm Monday through Friday. We stand there for a moment. I try to think of something to say but for once decide silence is best.

My manager stood with arms crossed and pondered the mail box. I shove my hands in my pockets and shift the weight on my feet…

Silence really doesn't suit me. “So there it is…” I say at last.

“Hm.” He answers thoughtfully.

We go back upstairs after that. Within a minute and a half I get an email from my manager’s manager as follows below:

“Until it can be confirmed outgoing mail is picked up daily from the buildings outgoing mailbox slot, Accounts Payable will continue to hand deliver the company mail every day to the post office.”

The Mailbox Email…

I have given up on protesting or pointing out the obvious regarding anything with the mail box.

 There is a post office right by my house that is open an hour later then the one by the office building. Rather then leave and come back I stay the extra ten minutes at work and dropped it off on the way home.

Then there was an email that followed along these lines:

“Subject: Secure Outgoing Mail

There is an outgoing secured mail box here in this building by the elevator. All outgoing mail can be left there. Outgoing mail is picked up daily by the postal carrier at 5:30pm.

If your mail is too large to fit in the slot, It will need to be taken directly to the Post office or other mailbox. If the box should get too full, there is another mail slot available in Building II. Let me know if this happens and we can evaluate the need for a larger box. Please let me know if you have any questions or concerns,

Sincerely, ETC.”

Reader… the outburst that follows is amazing.

The Post Office Field Trip

Employee B and I walk out to her vehicle in the garage with about twenty envelopes in hand. We drive just under three blocks over to the south of the building to park outside the post office. We walk into the post office, we say hello to the people standing in line and walk past all of them to a mail bin at the counter. 

Carefully she puts the envelopes, face out, in the bin.

In front of the six or seven odd people she clearly says her explanation to the curious onlookers as I try to melt into the ATM stamp dispenser behind me, “The only way the mail will be delivered is if it is put into this bin before 5 pm without any rubber bands or paperclips.”

If someone laughed I wouldn't have heard. I had already begun to play the X-files theme song in my head.

The Mail box downstairs...

Every office building I have ever worked in has an outgoing mail box. For that matter, every business, home, etc. has one too. This usually means a person employed by the local post office will be by on some sort of schedule to pick said outgoing mail.

Everyone with me on this one? Just checking. Apparently not everyone is.

Two weeks into working at this new job, I again suggested perhaps our building’s existing outgoing mailbox could be used for outgoing mail including items such as personal electric bills, personal letters and perhaps also Lia Sophia jewelry returns from employees.

“There isn't an outgoing mail box here.” I was told sternly.

I hesitated, not liking to argue but unable to duct tape my mouth shut at the moment, “But… there is…”

Heavy sigh, head shake, and my manager joins the audience of people at my cubes sliding doors (my manager is the one person I do really like) and he cheerfully suggests a field trip.

“A what?” I repeat stupidly.

He grins happily, “You and Employee B should go on a field trip to the post office.”

“But I know where it is.” I say slowly.

His smile becomes bigger as he ignores that and Employee B agrees to take me on a field trip tomorrow afternoon.

The Mailbox...

I am re-entering 'The Office' having accepted a full time position with a good company. I am replacing the position of someone who has been promoted. Co-worker A. Co-worker B is also on hand to train me regarding the importance of the mail as she is the ‘back up’ person I were to be sick or out of the office.

I sit in my chair in my gigantic cubical as they hover at the doors watching me, (yes my cube has doors).

Co-worker B begins, "The mail must be hand delivered at the end of each day at the post office down the street before they close at 5pm"

Co-worker A nods, adding seriously, "Even if we are slammed and you are stuck here, you have leave and make sure you deliver it and then come back to catch up"

I gently suggest, "But as the mail is posted here and the date is stamped on that postage, we could just drop it downstairs in this building's mailbox. It is securely locked and it says there is a pick up at 5:30 pm by the post office."

There is the silence and an exchanged look of horror between the two,

"No, it will not be delivered!" Co-worker B exclaims horrified.

Puzzled I ask, "Why? Have is not been picked up before?"

"We don't have a building mail box!" They say in time, exchanging another look, this one hints of 'maybe the new girl is an idiot.'

I smile politely and wonder when twilight zone music would kick on.