December is Pandemonium Park. The office gets buried in glitter, Amazon packages, and cards with misspelled addresses. One year, they had a mountain of parcels so high, it blocked the staff entrance.
Elderly postmen drank extra tea. They claim to have seen Santa’s actual workshop for a few weeks. The stress is real, but the banter is legendary. It’s the postal service version of a war movie, but with more Sellotape.
You can almost hear the collective groan when a last-minute delivery arrives at 4:59 PM. This office has seen it all. It is unshockable.
Quirk #4: The Van Graveyard
Out back, there’s a tiny car park of post vans. They look like tired white beetles. Drivers decorate them with stickers of cats and "I Brake for Mailboxes." One van has a dent shaped exactly like a rugby ball. Coincidence? In Richmond? Never.
The vans leave at dawn, scattering like crumbs across the borough. They are the front line. The office is just their lair. The place they come back to for tea and tales of vicious dogs.
