The Pros: This place is within walking distance of my home (but for those of you with cars, the parking situation is a nightmare - so you might want to avoid this post office if you can). Also, it's usually not too crowded in the middle of the day.
The Cons: Ramon, one of the postal workers. He was especially rude to me, hence this review. I was talking to my mother (via a mouthpiece, attached to my phone) while I waited in line to get my mail. Now, before you think: Oh she's one of THOSE people - who yaps loudly on her phone, completely oblivious to the unsolicited noise pollution she is spewing.... Uhhh, NO. If they were giving out awards for *Person Most Likely To Be Considerate Of Other People In Their Surroundings*, I would win. Every Dang Year I would win. I hate to be immodest, as I'm certainly not perfect, but I damn sure know my strengths by now. Anyhoo, as I'm waiting in line, I talk into a magazine & lower my voice, so as not to invade the ears of my fellow wait-ers. I notice another man ahead of me talking on his cell phone, as well as people in line talking to each other. A man in a wheelchair starts talking really loudly to his companion, then he starts yelling disparaging comments at the postal workers - in a seemingly friendly manner, though. He's so loud that I can hardly hear what my mother is saying, but whatever, no one cares to admonish him (& rightly so, I think). He stops shouting after awhile & we all continue our conversations. Eventually, it's my turn to approach Ramon at the counter. I politely request my mail, he gets it & hands it to me, I smile & graciously thank him. I start to head toward the exit, but realize that the door is locked. Ramon had locked both exit/entrance doors precisely at 5:00 pm (this is typical for him to do), so that no more customers can enter the post office after Closing time. However, this also means that the customers who are already inside get locked IN, until he comes out from behind the counter & lets us out. (By the way, isn't this against the law? I mean, in case of a fire - aren't we supposed to have access to at least one unlocked door? Hell-o??) I look around to see that he's with another customer already, so I wait until he finishes, to let me out. No biggie; I can wait. (As long as a fire doesn't start, of course - in that case, he better duck.) In the meantime, I turn around to face the wall next to the door (so as not to project my normal-toned voice onto everyone else, mind you) & I continue speaking with my mother. Then I hear Ramon say: "EXCUSE ME, CAN YOU TALK LOWER?" I was so flabbergasted when I realized he was speaking TO ME, that I think my initial response was "Huh?" I took a moment, looked around at the remaining people in line WHO HAD ALSO BEEN TALKING AT 'NORMAL' LEVELS, & let's just say that Hell hath no fury like a woman being treated unjustly. Oh Hell Naw. Are we in a library? A church? A place where silence or hushed voices is/are mandatory - or even appropriate? Um, NO, little man. Also, you've seen to it that I'm TRAPPED in this post office until You unlock the door - am I supposed to hang up on my mother while I wait to be released?? And even more important: How dare you single ME out for doing something that (nearly) EVERYONE ELSE in that post office was doing?? Gee, for SOME reason, Ramon, you felt no need to admonish the shouting MAN in the wheelchair, or the rather loud MAN on his cell phone... am I picking up on something discriminatory in nature here? Hmmmm. So I say to Ramon (in a civil manner, believe it or not) "Ya know, that's really rude. I'm not the only person talking in here." He comes out from behind the counter & proceeds to unlock the door so I can finally escape his smarmy face - yet he CONTINUES to REPRIMAND ME on my way out the door: "No, YOU'RE being rude, blah, blah, blah." I have no idea what else he said, because frankly, if you refuse to listen to me - I refuse to hear you. Simple as that, really. I just know I had to get out of there before I unleashed a torrent of F-bombs on him with my poor, sweet mother on the phone. My mother, who - for the record - is the only person in history who's ever been allowed to *reprimand* me. So that'll be the F-ing Day when a rude little postal employee named Ramon gets to do it.... But I'm not bitter. I just hope, for his sake, that Ramon learns to keep his sexist little mouth shut - the next time he hears a Grown-ass Woman SPEAK. (Hint: we don't blindly obey *authority* (LMAO), we don't apologize or acquiesce when we've done nothing wrong, & we don't whisper whilst men are permitted to shout.) read more