Opinion: Post office problems
Commentary by Danielle Wilson
Well, it finally happened. That stress-induced meltdown I knew was lurking behind the twinkle lights, cheese plates and vacuumed-up tinsel emerged this morning. Read on, my friends, for a tale of going postal.
The Saturday started off fine. At 10:30 a.m. I dropped my youngest at dance and then drove straight to Kinko’s with my oldest for a passport photo. After waiting in line for-ev-er, we got his picture and headed over to the Carmel post office.
Unfortunately, their passport counter was closed, with no signs indicating hours of operation. So we stood in line. Again. Seven minutes later I learn it’s by appointment only, made by phone only. Fine. On the way home, I call the exact same post office in which I’d just been standing. Passports are Monday through Friday, 9:00 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. Not exactly convenient for people who have jobs. The nice man did suggest I try a different post office, which I did.
As I am pulling in to my driveway, I discover that if we can be in line at the Fishers PO by 12:30 p.m., we can get the application processed today. Woohoo! Back across town we go. We arrive at noon, but soon realize that we are missing a key component, a paper copy of his driver’s license. There are still three people in front of us, so I dash back to the van and head to another Kinko’s. I make two wrong turns and get stuck behind an accident clean-up, but eventually get the damn copy and return to PO#2.
At precisely 12:35 p.m., we are called. We hand over his application, photo, driver’s license and copy, social security card and expired passport, as well as my driver’s license. “Birth certificate?” the lady asks. Huh? “Ma’am, we need proof of his citizenship.” “But we have his old passport,” I say. “Doesn’t count. Good day. Next!” And just like that, we are dismissed. No passport, no nothin’. I was in full sob mode even before we exited the building and I cried the entire way home.
Stupid holidays. And stupid post offices. Peace out.