Ode to Russian Post

    Leonid Kaganov in F5 yesterday published an excellent work inspired, apparently, by the latest events related to the Russian Post. Clearly, subtly, folding, in the case.
    Original post

    I sing praise to the Russian post! You don’t fool me with an e-mail brain wrinkled by the Internet. Another feeling, believe me, is to hold a letter in an envelope, where there is a stamp, and sealing wax, and wax, and stamps! Stamps made of paper! On them are flowers, emblems and flags, yin-yang, fractal, bicycle ... am I confusing something? It does not matter! I love paper envelope in postal stamps! But, let's say, the parcels. They fly like a wind in a field, like swarms of daws and a raven! In paper gray packaging! And hairy ropes squeeze them from all sides! And the most important, real, mighty wooden box is a plywood planed chest, it is called - a package! Reader ... I haven’t liked your grin for a long time, my friend.

    Are you the most proud here? Who are you making faces on here? Are you smarter than all people? Are you disgusted with our mail? Which delivers everything that eBay decides to send you? She will deliver, if not immediately. Lightly beat the display and the vase, iPhone and camera. It will open the package a little and get something cleverly. But it will deliver! Are you not happy From the farthest point in the world in just four months (well, a maximum - in just a year), an expensive mess and complicated, felt by the whole customs, a valuable parcel will come.

    You bastards are just insolent! Do you need one week? Answer, why are you silent, nerd? A week is up to the border with Russia. And here it is supposed to gather dust like quarantine. We still have, perhaps, cargoes gathering dust since the days of the Union - not all have been delivered yet. We have clogged their warehouses, we ourselves may not be happy, but the hand did not reach yet. Your parcel is millions. And the postman-postmen, poor things, through the snowstorm and the forest, are carrying sleds on sledges. Is free? For thanks, or what? What is their interest in this?

    You say they have a salary? And what is everywhere - in Europe, in the States - the delivery price is two times more modest than at our mail? Fool the other head! Empty, stupid words! I do not argue: yes, it is more expensive here. But how are you not ashamed, God! Counting other people's money is a sin! You yourself think for yourself: it’s a shame for the big post office officials to live more modestly than all the gas and customs ministers. What is impossible, but is it possible? Mess, injustice, horror! They tear away from the heart with pain - and the postman with a parcel salary drops a little.

    And what does their salary have to do with it? Our country is a country of rollback. Here, men throughout all ages kept all paths and rivers, and everything that went from the Vikings to the Greeks left a little tribute here. And all that from Persia on the Volga. It’s a long time to list, but now the kid knows: that the poor, that the rich, do not work for wages - but to demand bakshish. An electrician, a janitor, a doctor, a teacher - bring any money, and only then will the process go. And only the postman, like a fool, works for you: in kind, he carries boxes for free!

    Here he comes to the parcel. And he said to her: do you hear, do you want to leave quickly? In response - silence, and nothing more. He again to her: well, give me at least how much? Though a steward! Well, at least five rubles! The cardboard box is silent. He is burying her at the end of the carriage. He takes another, five kilos. And she whispers to her: must I leave? We have not enough gasoline, our roads are covered with sweat, we have companions in a binge, we ... yes, damn it, so what? Enough to be silent here, answer! After all, there is money, I see! He takes ticks, pliers and climbs inside to look.

    And so the whole year. Six days a week. And you bastards, have your eBay really horned your horn? Found a device to scan photos? Buy yourself a bottle of vodka in a stall for the same hundred rubles! Do you want a cheap computer? Ride to the hucksters at the wholesaler - to the pawnshop stall for drunks! Found a machine with an overlock to sew a dress with electric current? Do not fidget, with your hands! And then, damn it, smart ones! They want the post office of Russia, like a boy, to run to every house! You ordered the packages, and the postman - drag the stretcher with your (note: your) good? Therefore, I’ll say this: say thank you, bastard, that the mail still works at least somehow! You turn a little more - and you yourself will carry your goods on all roads, eccentric!

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