Just Leave Me the Fuck Alone Please.

As much as living where you work cuts down on the commute somewhat, it's also a major drawback in some regards. The fact that I never feel like I never leave work is one of them. The other is that idiots who aren't organised enough to come in when we're open think that I live next to the Post Office purely for their convenience.

Wrong!!!

We're not here for any one's convenience when we're open thank you very much so you can just fuck right off now if you think I'm gonna lift a finger outside of my contracted hours.

Usually it's just people knocking on the Post Office door, utterly failing to add up the clues that we're no longer open (closed sign displayed, lights switched off, no-one in there and the door being locked being the main ones) yet still they have to try to open the door.

"Hmm, this door appears stiff. Perhaps I should get the attention of someone in the shop to inform them of this fact. Hmm, I can't see anyone in there. Could that be because it is dark in there or have they just popped out en masse? I'll try the door again, maybe it'll have become unlocked in the last five seconds or so. Hmm, still not working. I'll peer intently and hope that some kind soul will come to the door. Nope. Bugger."

I've seen plenty of people doing this on the CCTV footage. The above is an approximate transcript of what's going through their minds when doing so.

Anyhoo, those out of hours twats I can easily ignore and so they don't really bother me (Well, no more than the rest of humanity bugs me) but there are some that make it impossible for me to ignore them so I've actually got to go to the effort of being rude to them before they naff off.

Some people think that it is perfectly acceptable to come to my house to get undelivered parcels. If a postie has tried to deliver a parcel but failed they have to bring it back to the sorting office which is attached to the Post Office. The customer has a little card put through their door informing them that they're welcome to collect the parcel from the Post Office and then gives, quite clearly, the opening hours.

Well, that's not good enough for some people. Their parcels are soooo important that the have to have them as soon as possible even if that means bugging me at home. Some customers have tried various excuses ("I need it to go on holiday with" well, you should have organised yourself a bit better then shouldn't you. "The previous postmaster never used to mind" Oh yes he damn well did, he was less customer focused than I am. "It's really important that I get that parcel today," If it is that important, you should have taken some time off work so you'd have been in to receive it.)

One customer is especially bad at this. Despite being told point black on several occasions that you're not welcome to come to my house to collect your parcel, she still persists in asking. It's probably no coincidence that she's Australian or maybe New Zealandish (not that there's really any difference between them despite what the Antipodean colonials may tell you). No doubt her family was deported for being lazy and feckless two hundred years ago.

She even had the cheek to ask me whether I'd consider staying open longer for people who can't come in during normal working hours. When I replied that it wouldn't really be worth it as after 5 o'clock we have precious few customers already so after five thirty I'd be lucky to have anyone come in, she said that perhaps I should bear it in mind anyway.

Bear it in mind? Bear it up your fucking arse more like.