You know the situation. Your parents have been sending you agonized letters all term pleading with you to write. They miss you. They need more indication that you’re still alive than the cancelled checks they might receive each month.
So, along about mid-term, you decide you’ll drop the folks a line. But it’s not that simple. Stepping into the EMU Post Office for a stamp, you’re confronted with a line of more than 20 students. At a peak hour, the line might extend out the door. Shrugging your shoulders, you decide even dear ole Mom and Dad aren’t worth the half-hour wait. You opt for writing them cute notes on your checks.
Unfortunately, you’re not alone. Long lines are more the rule than the exception. And, according to Eugene Postmaster Ethan Newman, the situation is unlikely to change. The reasons behind most of the difficulty are out of his hands, he says.
Newman says one of the main reasons for the long lines is the large amount of students wanting to buy stamps. The students could simply by-pass the Post Office altogether and use the vending machine in the foyer of the new EMU. The machine sells stamps, envelopes and most other “small purchase” items that often clog the counters of the Post Office.
A quick survey of those standing in line suggests otherwise, however. Of eight persons standing in a slow-moving line on a Thursday afternoon, three were buying money orders, two were sending packages, two were picking up insured packages, and one was sending a letter to Europe.
“I deal with this Post Office three days out of five every week, and I’ve discovered that during certain times, if you’re in a hurry, you might as well forget it,” said one young woman in line. “But other times, like most early mornings, I never have trouble,” she added.
Newman points out other causes for the long lines. “Foreign students, who provide lots of the business simply because it’s more complicated for them to write home, cause problems without realizing it. They’re unfamiliar with the system, with the language — consequently, they take much more time in line.”
Complications also arise from incorrect use of the bulk mailing service, says postal clerk John Cole. “Student groups come in here expecting us to do all the paper work involved with mailing something bulk rate, when they are supposed to have organized the materials themselves.”
A case in point: the University of Oregon Gerentology Association (UOGA), which must periodically send out flyers and newsletters via bulk rate, ran into some difficulty recently when they first started using the service.
“We took a pile of flyers in one Thursday morning with a bulk mailing permit from another office,” explained UOGA Secretary Patty Farrell. “We expected everything to go out that day, but Friday night we received a call saying that because of some problem with the permit, hey hadn’t gone out. In fact, there was a three-day weekend that weekend, so they didn’t go out until Tuesday!”
Cole says this problem often arises. “It’s simply a case where the office to whom the permit was issued didn’t sufficiently inform the other groups who wanted to use it.” According to Cole, long explicit instructions are issued with each permit; those who aren’t issued one, then, usually miss out on the process.
Both Newman and Cole agree that union problems account for some of the maddening long lines. The postal worker’s union stipulates that each clerk is allowed a certain amount of break-time each working day. If one of the breaks happens to fall during a peak time, such as between classes, long lines result.
Director of customer services, James Nesbitt, says, “the unions also forbid supervisors from clerking under any circumstances. That’s one of the many complaints we receive — people waiting in a longline will see a man sitting back there at a desk instead of clerking at a closed window. That man is usually a supervisor who can’t clerk, but how do you explain that to an impatient customer?”
“We’re also in the throes of inflation, like everyone else,” says Cole. The department wants to provide the most service for the least amount of money. But we usually have to end up cutting corners.” This means no extra clerks for peak times, no special workers to sort the mail and deliver it to its proper box or slot.
“Besides,” says Newman, “we couldn’t put another clerk in there for the ten-minute rush between classes. There wouldn’t be enough work for him to do to justify it.”