Member-only story
My Weird Two Weeks of Training at the US Post Office
I didn’t take the job
“We don’t get many people of your quality around here,” the driving instructor told me.
“My quality?” I inquired.
“Intelligent.”
Whoa, before you berate me, I love the post office. I know people who’ve dedicated their lives to bringing me letters from my Nana, 10% coupons from Bed, Bath, and Beyond, chain letters, and approximately 43,000 political candidate postcards.
But my two weeks' training for a part-time driver position was one of the weirdest experiences of my working life.
I’ve been a manager, a staff member, a trainer, a cashier, a salesperson, a yoga instructor, and I can slice deli meats. I know retail, I know money handling, and I know people.
And this was weird, people.
I won’t reveal the city, but as the kids say, “IYKYK,” (If you know, you know).
It was a two-week paid training. Yippee.
My first encounter was waiting in a dingy post office cubicle area inside a working post office. We filled out some paper in our laps and then waited for the manager dude to call us back one by one.
It felt like high school.
