I’m either not very intelligent or I have really bad luck ordering school books online. One semester I (sort of accidentally) ordered two of every book. Another semester I forgot to order until the week before classes started and none of them had arrived by the time I needed them for school. This semester I was totally on top of things. I ordered my books three weeks ago. I even compared prices from several different sellers and found the best deal. I expected that they would start coming a few days before school started (which was this Tuesday), but they didn’t. I had received confirmations that almost all of them had been shipped at least a week before so it didn’t make sense that they weren’t being delivered. Until I went back to amazon.com and looked at my orders. Somehow I didn’t change the shipping address from our old apartment. I changed the billing address, but the shipping address was, regrettably, still our old address. And apparently the post office does not forward packages. Blah.
It may not have been a huge deal except that the post office for our old zip code is awful. AWFUL. I hated going there. Long lines, rude clerks, messy lobby. It was worth the move just to get a new post office (which, so far, has been clean, prompt, and a pleasure to do business with). But, unfortunately I had to go back to the old one to see if I could claim my books. After waiting for a long time (15 minutes? 20?) in a relatively short line (there was only one window open) I got my chance with the clerk. I explained the situation — that I probably had packages waiting, but that I’d moved so I didn’t have any delivery slips. She was kind enough to go back and check and found one box with my name on it. It had three of my books, including one I needed for this week. Lucky me. I then asked her if she thought any of my other packages would be forwarded or if I should keep coming back to check for them. She acted as though I had personally offended her. “Your time is done. You’re done,” were her exact words, I believe, as she walked away while I was in the middle of asking her what I thought was a perfectly valid question. Apparently my 15 minutes in line with a cranky baby only paid for three minutes of her time. And apparently I have no skill dealing with people like this, which is extremely unfortunate because I’m going to have to go back there next week to beg for more of my books. Any suggestions?