Shipping is a fandom practice that involves imagining relationships between two fictional characters from a show or movie.
If you’re watching “The Great Gatsby,” for example, you might ‘ship’ Gatsby and Daisy.
Shipping refers to the act of sending goods from one person to another. And if I am applying the urban dictionary definition above to the more conventional nomenclature, I would say my relationship with the postal service is shaky.
Or at the very least, I am perplexed. I wouldn’t ship me with shipping!
Twice in the last 10 days, I have gone to the main post office to send parcels overseas to Holly. You’d figure if anyone is comfortable with the practice of sending packages it would be the postal service, right? Well, maybe not.
The minute you couple the terms ‘shipping’ and ‘international,’ you encounter a look of grave concern on the faces of the clerks who tell you “I can help the next person in line.” I’m not sure if this service is just something they don’t deal with on a regular basis or if they realize the process is very cumbersome.
Let me start right there. The process is very cumbersome. And let’s don’t even talk about cost yet (spoiler alert – it’s overwhelmingly expensive).
On the first occasion we were shipping to Holly, we were actually sending two boxes she had packed for herself. These boxes included clothes, books, DVDs, etc. One was very large and very heavy; the other less so.
She had packed her large rolling suitcase and a carry-on bag with stuff to tide her over. But, since she is going to be in France until May, the items in the two boxes were things to fill out her day to day ensemble.
When we went into the post office - as is always the case I guess - there was only one clerk stationed at the desk (a very petite lady). Since it was difficult for me to manhandle the behemoth box myself, I was quite concerned for her. Fortunately as the line began to build she called for relief help from the back and a big guy came out.
He served us when it was our turn and he was able to lift the 50 pound box without issue.
Now we turn to the cost issue. The minute we mentioned we wanted to send the two boxes to France, he started trying to talk us out of it. Or, at the very least, he threw out disclaimers so we wouldn’t blame him when the exorbitant cost popped up on the screen.
Holly had researched all of this and we knew what we were in for in terms of cash. In fact she had left money behind to pay for her own shipping.
After we assured him cost wasn’t an object, he turned to the lack of a speedy shipping service. “Six to 10 business days,” he said, shaking his head. In other words, it doesn’t seem possible to overnight yourself a pair of stylish boots and a couple CDs.
Again, we knew that was the case so we confirmed that schedule would be acceptable. From there, he finished processing the transaction. We paid. Then, we left.
If anything, the second occasion was more frightful than the first.
In the interim, we learned it was somewhat cheaper to utilize a flat rate international Priority Mail box than one from your own storage room. So, we stuffed one full (yet, staying just under the 20 pound limit).
Back to the same post office, I found double the counter help (two as opposed to one clerk) and a wild-eyed look of mild panic came over the clerk’s face when I uttered the dreaded phrase ‘international.’ You could tell that he was interested in passing me off to his co-worker. He almost seemed relieved when he found an extra form I should complete.
Naturally, after I finished that form and fell back to the front of the queue, I went to his neighbor (the self-same petite lady I had seen the week before).
She was friendly and helpful but very meticulous.
The box we were sending on the second occasion contains a number of food items (as an aside, when Holly was in France a year ago, she noted a lack of some of her staple items – peanut butter and macaroni). We had stuffed a box full, included the staples and some other requested items.
On the form, I labeled the box ‘misc. foodstuffs,’ but the clerk asked for more detail:
- Macaroni and Cheese (“How many boxes?” “Two”)
- Pretzel Rods (“How many bags?” “One")
- Canned Soup (“How many cans?” “Four”)
This conversation continued until she filled up the form with her itemized list where I had previously written “misc. foodstuffs.” We never got to the envelopes of mashed potato flakes or the small bottle of chili powder.
Along the way both this lady and her counterpart wanted to know the “province number” for Normandy. I’m not sure how I would know that? For some reason, her machine stumbled across it after a few attempts. It was about that time that her tape machine jammed.
From start to finish, the transaction took about 40 minutes.
Please understand, the purpose of today’s Coach Jeff update isn’t to be overly critical. I guess I just want to say that in terms of ‘shipping services,’ international is not easy. For whatever reason, the process is balky; the price is steep. The postal workers try very hard. They are friendly and diligent. It just seems that the post office isn’t set up for international shipping.
If we do this again in the future, we might consider using a different vendor.
I will say that the ’six to 10 day’ estimate seems about right. Holly got a note on Saturday that her first two boxes have arrived and they are available for pick-up, tomorrow, at the post office.
Based on that timeline, she should receive ‘misc. foodstuffs’ early next week.
JG
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