I've always wondered why people like to send things with travelers instead of just mailing things to Israel. I always figured the mail worked fine. That is until my mother sent two packages to Dena on the same day. One had video tapes and arrived just fine in less than a week. The other, well, here's the story...
It didn't arrived, and my mother started bugging us about it. Did we get it yet? Nu? Finally on March 21st, I get a notice that I have 3 packages at the post office. Psyche. I drop Ronit at Gan, and head to the post office. One of the package slips is for the new nifty automatic package machine that is outside the post office and is available 24 hours a day. I can't get it to read the barcode on the slip. I try and try and try. No luck. So I go inside and get the other two packages -- Amazon books, and another package from my mother -- but not the right one. Back outside, this time the machine reads the barcode. But it says, "No such package. See the postman inside." Argh.
Into the post office and I explain my story. The guy at the desk sends me back to see Yossi in the backroom. Like I know who Yossi is? I look around and ask everybody I see if they are Yossi. Nope. Finally I head upstairs. On the way somebody tells me Yossi is outside at the package machine. I run out there, but he isn't there. I try my barcode again. Same message. Back inside. Some guys is getting out of the elevator. "Are you Yossi?" "Yes". Phew. I explain the story, but Yossi cannot find the package anywhere. He promises to look for the package and wants to write my phone number on the back of the package notification slip. I refuse to give up the slip, so he writes my number on a scrap piece of paper.
Two days pass. No phone call. i visit the post-office. No package. Two more days, I arrive at the post office at 12:45. Ooops, they close at 12:30. I'll never get the Israel schedule right. I return at 4:30 when they are open again, but Yossi is only there in the morning. This process continues.
Thursday night. It feels like it should be the day before the weekend and we should be relaxing, but we aren't. I'm working. Phone calls from EMC at 9pm, 10:30pm. Bugs at a customer site.
A busy morning. Last night was the clock change. Spring Forward. We lost an hour of sleep. On top of that this week Dani is a crossing guard, so he has to be out the door extra early.
Latest email from EMC is that the bug still isn't fixed. I'm going to have to work today. At least I've already bought the salmon for Shabbat lunch. Dena is out doing other shopping. Phone rings...
"Why don't you visit me anymore"
Who could this be. I decide on the direct approach, "I don't recognize your voice. Who is this?"
"Yossi, at the Post Office. I have your package. Its an international package."
"Okay, I'm coming."
I hop on my bike, for my second ride of the day. Pass Dena (on her bike) coming back from buying Challah. I'm sure by now the security guard at the post office recognizes me. I'm the guy with the bike helmet who comes every other day without bringing anything, and leaves without taking anything. He must wonder what I do in the post office. Yossi has some big long explanation about what happened to the package. I didn't follow, but I see that the package is ripped a little here and there. It was mailed on March 6th. I received my first notice on the 21st, and now on the 31st, I finally have the package. I'm amazed. Amazed that it got lost. Amazed that it got found. Amazed that Yossi still had my phone number to call me. Amazed that I bothered to lose sleep about the missing package. Now I've got my table cloth for Passover.
