There are certain places in Britain where time stands still. One is the dentist’s waiting room. Another is the queue at Greggs when the bloke in front orders 14 sausage rolls for “the office.” But the true black hole of time, sanity, and patience? The Post Office.
You walk in thinking you’re going to buy a stamp, or maybe post a parcel. You walk out 40 minutes later having lost the will to live, £20 lighter, and still without your stamp.
The £5.70 “Commission” Scam
Today’s highlight? A postal order.
Yes, apparently those still exist. And don’t get me started on why government departments only — literally only — accept postal orders for certain service payments. It’s like asking people to pay in seashells.
And for the privilege of this ancient relic of financial life, the Post Office generously charged me £5.70 commission. Five pounds. Seventy. To hand me a piece of paper.
And because that wasn’t insulting enough, they threw in an 80p envelope. Eighty pence. For one envelope. At that price, I assume it’s lined with gold leaf and sealed with unicorn tears. Or maybe it’s just a bog-standard envelope that Tesco sell in packs of 50 for £1.20.
Cash Only. But Not Really. But Also, Yes. But No.
Of course, payment was its own circus.
First: “We only take cash.”
Then: “Oh, we take debit cards too.”
Followed by: “But not Chase Bank debit cards.”
Excuse me? You’re literally promoting yourself as a Post Office “Banking Branch” with a huge sign over your counter! All the local bank branches have closed because you apparently offer banking services. And yet, my perfectly valid debit card may as well have been a loyalty card for Blockbuster.
The Jobsworth Olympiad
The clerk had the energy of someone who’s been playing Solitaire since 1998. One rule, no exceptions. Another rule, contradicting the first. No thought about how real life actually works.
Meanwhile, the queue behind me groaned in unison as each customer hit the same Kafkaesque wall of “we can do anything… but not in the way you need it.”
Schrödinger’s Post Office
Need to deposit money? Fine — but not from your bank.
Want to pay by card? Great — but not your card.
Want to withdraw cash? No problem — as long as it’s not the second Tuesday of the month, unless it’s a leap year, after 1:30pm, when Halley’s Comet is visible, and there’s a full moon tonight.
It’s less a Post Office, more a Monty Python sketch written by Kafka.
The Queue of Broken Dreams
The queue was like a support group for the slowly defeated. One bloke in front of me visibly gave up on life halfway through his transaction and shuffled off muttering that carrier pigeons would be quicker. Another woman behind me sighed so loudly I thought she’d pass out.
And While We’re Here: The Postmasters Scandal
Let’s not forget, this is the same organisation that ruined hundreds of lives with the Horizon IT system scandal. Innocent postmasters accused of theft, lives destroyed, justice delayed for decades. And who’s to blame? Fujitsu. 100%. They built a system so bad it makes Windows Vista look like a Swiss watch.
Yet somehow the Post Office jobsworth culture — the same mindset that says “we take debit cards, but not yours” — is what allowed the scandal to drag on. Rules over reason. Systems over people.
Final Thought (Before I Buy Stamps on Amazon Instead)
The Post Office: simultaneously the most outdated, over-complicated, under-staffed institution in Britain, and somehow the only place that insists it’s “essential.”
Essential? Essential for stress levels, yes. Essential for jobsworths to cling to their tiny empires, definitely. But for the rest of us, who just wanted a stamp or a postal order?
A total farce. Honestly, by the time I left, I’d spent a fortune, lost a chunk of my will to live, and gained a renewed appreciation for carrier pigeons.
At least they don’t charge commission.
