Fred's Myth
Nonhyphenated American
I used my brain, and required the recipient to accompany me to my truck to inspect this type of shipment.On 2 separate occasions I had big boxes of bloody frozen wild turkey hides shipped by Charlie Redneck and Billy Joe Sixpack good ol boys from down Old Fart way. By the time I got there they were thawing out , stinking beyond description with blood running under the bulk head door and down the door steps, dripping onto the floor.
Another time I had a bed designed for an invalid/handicapped person . They claimed that it weighed the magical 149lbs...yea right. it was clearly damaged beyond repair but I was told to attempt to deliver . Dragged it off the truck down through the snow to the guys house showed him what was wrong and of course he refused it. What does the terminal do? Of course they would try to bandage it up make it look different and ordered me to go through the same process again. Again the guy simply wasn't going to have X force a now useless piece of junk onto him.
There are simply no limits to how far ground will go to get out of having to pay a claim.
These a just two of the countless examples of the profound difference in the quality of the daily work experience between an Express letter carrier
and the human Towmotor known as the Ground delivery driver.
Refused? No problem, until I get back to the station. Then I get someone to assist.
It's not rocket science, people.