Yup. Street Level.

This morning a friend on FaceBook asked me my thoughts on what people are saying about the Postal Service. She was referring to people on the news and such, but I don't watch TV very much and had no idea what she had just seen on the news. Instead I went off on a rant about the way the Postal Service is trying to micro manage everything, and the Big Guys are trying to run the whole system like it's a Big Buiness, and that they are failing to use the street level workforce as what it is: A street level presence for the customers with a street level knowledge of our business and how to keep our customers happy. I said that if we kill that bond that many of us have with our customers then we'll lose those customers, and they are the root of our business. I finished with a line that I was just all kinds of proud of. "Any gardener can tell you that if you kill the root, you kill the tree."
Sounds good, huh?
So I blasted that message out on FaceBook, finished my other writing for the morning and headed off to work. As I walked in the building to clock in I saw two guys in suits up at the supervisor's desk. I immediately thought what I then heard my co-workers grumbling as they walked by:
Terrific. Another service talk from some suits from the District who are here to tell us how they're going to do something bad to us for 'the good of the Service', and how we're going to have to just do it and deal with it.
I started sorting my mail and only got about 10 minutes into it before the Postmaster called a service talk.
Terrific.
I put down the mail I was working with and turned to park my butt against the edge of my workbench. I folded my arms across my chest and tried to set my face into immobility.
(I've been told that I have a tendency to  make faces and snort derisively during these things, and I'm trying to not be so obvious about it)
The Postmaster and our manager made their Safety talks, and I managed to keep quiet and not make faces.
I was feeling a little proud of that.
Then the two suits introduced themselves and one of them started their pitch.
"We're here today to talk to you, the carriers, about using your street level presence and intimate knowledge of your customers to help us in the Sales department."
My mouth dropped open.
I had to check later, and it turned out that I was okay, but at the time I thought I might have wet my pants a little. I didn't, but honestly, if he had gone on to start a 'tree' analogy things may have wound up being horribly different at my bench and I would have had to go home for fresh clothes!
I listened intently to their talk, and the Q&A afterward. I was so pleased to have someone talking to us who wanted to work with us rather than trying to crack the whip and convince us that we work for them I didn't know what to do!
Thank You, God, I thought. This just about makes up for the sweaty tickly ears, You practical joker You!


Then I went into the bathroom to make sure I didn't have to go home for fresh clothes.
The state of my shorts was good.
Well ... pretty good.
... well, ...good enough.

Sometimes it's almost like I know what I'm talking about.

Talk to you later!