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Breaking my FedEx Virginity


“I have a box,” I said as I smiled with maybe a little too much pride at the employee that stood behind the counter.

The employee looked up from the papers in his hand and expressed a look of annoyance that quickly turned into amusement and bewilderment. It almost seemed like he was about to say something sarcastic, but was too humored to do so.

“Well, what can I do for you today?” he asked, clearly having this question down to a scripted science.

I smiled, tilted my head to the side, and replied “I have a box and I would like to mail it. Do you do that here?”

The look on the poor guy’s face was something I couldn’t register at first—but then it set in. Duh, I thought, this is FedEx. Of course they mail boxes.

I had purchased the box earlier that week at a pharmacy and decorated the inside to look all cute. I was making a care package type deal. While I was in the store I was trying to figure out what exactly I needed to mail a box. I figured a box was the most obvious thing, but then I looked slightly to my right and saw all these rings of packaging tape. I wasn’t sure if I needed the tape or not, but decided to get some anyway. Then I saw that they had pink packaging tape—which means I had it in my hand in less than half a second and was already in stride to the self-checkout (because I’m independent like that).

Anyway as I finished putting together my package, I began to tape it with the pink tape. Halfway through taping the bottom of the box I realized that I actually had no idea how to tape a box. I did my best and looked up a few videos on YouTube, impatiently trying to replicate the taping methods. My end product looked something like the boxes I receive when I order countless things off of Amazon. Perfect.

I pulled out my box—8 x 8 x 8, in case you were curious—and set it on the counter between the employee and I. He stared at it for a moment and then looked at me when I pulled out my postage stamps from my pink purse.

I explained to him that I’ve never mailed a box before and I didn’t know if I had to tape it myself and if I needed postage stamps. The employee laughed a little and said he has to tape over my tape anyway—ensuring me he’d do so with clear tape once he saw the disappointed look on my face—and that they actually print this giant label that goes on the box for you.

I filled out the form and asked many questions, all of which he replied patiently and informatively to. We made small talk about what I was mailing and what it was for. He even gave me a tracking number so I can see where it is and when it is delivered. It was wonderful. When I left, I waved goodbye and thanked the employee for helping me with my first package mailing experience.

Sure enough, two days later after I had curiously been tracking the package, it was delivered. I guess snail mail isn’t so boring after all.

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