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Do not, as the very first item you've ever sold, put something big and heavy -- say, a 10-year-old shelf stereo system, for example -- up for auction. Start small.
The item would not fit into the box I thought it would. It was also the box I used to calculate shipping.
I had to go to a bigger, heavier box. Now, the stereo is packed into a large Dell computer crate, stuffed with bubble wrap, about the equivalent of two balled-up Sunday newspapers, another small, empty Amazon.com box to take up some space and a couple of towels.
The BF groaned and reminded me for the nth time that this is becoming more trouble than it's worth. "That thing is going to cost more to ship than what the guy paid you," he said. "I know, I know," I replied. "But it's too late to complain. Let's just get this thing out of the house and not let it happen again."
He grudgingly volunteered to hoof the thing into his car -- I could barely lift it -- and take it to the post office. At least the box has holes on each side for handles. We -- er, he -- loaded it into the back seat and took it to the nearest post office, which also turned out to be a big mistake.
I'd never been to this particular post office. Walking into it was like walking into a mom-and-pop package store circa 1955. It was a tiny, dirty, white room, with two windows, a single small shelf to write on -- no priority mail or express mail slips provided -- and one nondescript white door leading to the back. On the other side of the windows were two old mustached men. One was round, the other small and skinny with glasses. The BF and I were the only ones in there, so I walked up to the nearest window. The larger of the two, complacently resting on his crossed arms, said, "How can I help ya?" I thought, in my usual pleasant way, "Look. I just stepped into a post office. What do you think? I need to mail something."
"I need to mail something," I said, pointing to the large box Stephen had plopped down in front of the door to the back.
The round man, instead of going through the door, craned his neck through the window to look at the box. "Ah, I'll have to measure it. We only mail boxes up to a certain size."
Oh c'mon! I've never been to a post office that wouldn't mail a big box. Where am I, Mayberry?
The round man grabbed a tape measure -- not one that rolls up you'd find in any old toolbox, but a dinky one from a sewing kit -- and opened the door. The little man followed behind. The round man held the box up on its side while the other wrapped the tape measure around it.
"Ah, we only mail boxes up to a certain size. This box is too big."
The BF gave me an icy glare. I rolled my eyes. "Well can you at least weight it for us?" Stephen said.
The round man picked it up from the bottom, carried it through the door and appeared again in the near window. He hoisted the box onto a small metal scale obviously not meant for a box that big. "49 pounds."
OMG.
He recommended sending the item in two separate boxes. He didn't think it would cost any more or less but would at least be less cumbersome.
The buyer really wanted it shipped by today, but I won't be able to try again until tomorrow morning. I'm going to have to take the box to the big regional, 24-hour post office near the airport. I'm afraid to recalculate the shipping.
How did I get myself into this? How could I possibly make a simple task this difficult?
Current mood: Bitchy
Replies: 2 shoutouts
The B&C's patience is incredibly short, but he's also good about letting things go and move on. He was pissed at the time, but an hour later, you'd never have known it.
I wish I were as disciplined.
Posted by Huffy @ 04/30/2003 08:49 PM EST
Have you tried Mailbox Etc or are they now called "Brown" or something related to UPS?
And for those icy glares from the B and C, jabb out those eyes and make ice tea, geeze, its a learning experence, no?
Posted by P @ 04/29/2003 04:55 PM EST