Angry? Mad as hell and you can't take it anymore? Get something off your chest and it could be published online and/or in print. Bitches are anonymous and may be edited for length, grammar, spelling and our lenient standards of propriety.
Saturday, June 24, 2017
My father passed away in January of this year and since then I have been tidying up “loose ends” regarding his estate. Recently—today in fact—I had to travel back up to Clayton Park to pick up some mail addressed to his estate. Now yesterday I went but was told I needed several documents that I didn't have. Okay, fair enough. Today I arrived with the documents but was told—rather impolitely I might add—that I needed a death certificate. I was upset that I hadn't been told that yesterday and when I mentioned that to the guy who had been at the counter yesterday—who was very rude as well—he said he had forgotten to mention it and didn't even offer me an apology for my inconvenience. So fine—another trip up there by bus from the downtown core. This is what happens when Canada Post sub-contracts their work to others who are poorly trained and maybe just don't care about their work. SMH. —Still Sad Daughter
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