I've been waiting for a package from Amazon. Now this is not a small package, being as it will be containing two large annotated, hardcover, study Bibles. So, when the tracking said it was in Federal Way on the 15th, I was pleased, as that meant I'd get the box on the 16th. Enter my local post office. Tracking is updated at 4:30 am on the 16th, to note that the box has reached Bothell. I'm even happier than normal to knock off work, as the mail is usually there by the time I get home, and that means the package should be there. I get home about 1:30 pm - the mail's there, but there's no box. Sigh, they must be slow sorting at the main PO in Bothell.
Then I check the tracking again, and note that it says "Delivered," in big green letters, and that it says it reached my doorstep in Kenmore at 3:09 pm. Oh, hell no. So I go and walk around the outside of the house. You never know, I could have missed it, once around maybe. Not twice, though. (Quick aside to note that our front door is hidden from the street, and behind a gate, so packages nearly always get left there - it's fairly safe, and out of the rain). So I call the post office and bitch at them, and my partner heads over there after dropping off her vanpoolmates. She calls me and tells me, "They said when it says "delivered," it just means it made it to the sorting unit here in Bothell . . ." and I interrupt her to rant for about five minutes about how that's not what the USPS's own fucking website says. It says "delivered," and it says "Kenmore." So she goes back into the post office. She says that after "a little yelling" she got to speak to a supervisor.
Turns out that our regular mail carrier is on vacation, and his/her route's being split up among four other carriers, so they have to wait until they're all back to talk to them, as the supervisor doesn't know exactly who's covering which part of the route (WTF? Somehow I doubt this.) So botgrrrl tells me this as she's driving home, we figure we're most likely out the sixty bucks for the Bibles, and settle back to wait for a phone call we figure won't ever come.
Fast forward to 3:40 am this morning, as I'm backing out of the garage to go to work (in the rain). Right there, at the end of the walk, under the number plaque on the house, is the box from Amazon. The bastard carrier didn't even have the balls to bring it up to the front door, let alone knock on the door, give us our box and apologize for, y'know, not doing his job. I could understand if it just didn't get delivered on time, but with it being shown as delivered at least three hours after the mail had already arrived . . . if the carrier handled it to scan it, why not deliver it, unless the dumbass didn't even remember that he had it until he got back to the post office, and then for some reason the idiot scanned it.