Filing a claim for a lost/damaged package with the United States Postal Service holds the same place in my heart as a trip to the DMV. Every 30 minutes, the policy seams to change and the idea that you spent money on insurance means absolutely nothing to them. Since I’ve lived in my current zip code, the staff hasn’t changed, so I can safely assume that by providing horrible customer service is rewarded with additional job security. I’m keeping this in mind when I start my own business and model it after other successful companies that thrive off of driving customers to tears every time they exit their establishment. While they cry, at the end of every day I can come home, kick my feet up, and watch Frank Mir talk about how he’s going to pull guard on Junior Dos Santos and attempt to submit him right from the opening bell of his title fight at UFC 146. That’s the most fulfilling thing I can do with my life.
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