Sadly, I can no longer go to my local FedEx Kinkos


I’m thinking about getting a map of a fifty mile radius around my home and tacking it up on the wall, then placing pins in all the places I can no longer go. On the map would be the big Ventura post office, for I would be horrified to experience that whole ‘lady and her bizarre flatus‘ thing again. I don’t go to the Starbucks near the Barnes and Noble because a guy I dated works there, and I’d rather not deal with that. Needless to say, I find a lot of sort of stupid reasons not to go to some places around me, and then sometimes I find myself making such a fool out of things that I would rather not return for fear of more humiliation. Today was one of those days.

Although, to be fair, it was really my 69 year old father that added the Ventura FedEx Kinkos to the list of places I can no longer go to.

Let me back it up a bit. You all remember I declared myself on a vacation from life, so to speak, in preparation of my three week, cross-country trip home for the first time in over a decade. Of course, when I say “home” I mean Chicago – I have never and will not consider California to be welcoming enough to call “home.” Both feeling a little homesick, my father and I decided to take this trip together in spite of all the family vacations that turned complete disaster when I was little. So we are only a few days away from departing on what is sure to be an exciting, educational, and likely insane cross-country trip.

The world travelers, years before our current traveling madness.

Because we are traveling as light as possible, though, we ended up having to ship out the majority of our clothing for the time we will be in the Chicagoland area. This really seemed like the easiest and most logical decision, particularly because in addition to clothing we had an assload of souvenirs to take back for friends and family.

So flash forward to today and my 69 year old father in desperate need of a hip replacement decided it was the day that we must take our packed clothes and souvenirs to FedEx to ship. Enter the triad of actions that made it such that I can no longer go to my local FedEx Kinkos:

Incident One: Dad took FedEx employee liberties

So we walked into the store and it was a combination of the Kinkos copy shop and the FedEx shipping center. Behind the counter there were a variety of dollies and rollers that can be used for unloading and loading boxes, and there were two employees working. Rather than ask one of the readily available employees, though, my father just stalked behind the counter as if he works there and took a dolly. I started laughing, the employees started laughing, my dad muttered “whatever” and walked out to the car to load our boxes onto the dolly.

Incident Two: Dad dropped the f-bomb

I handed all the paperwork over to the woman working behind the counter and apologized for my father taking employee liberties, and she giggled and began to input all the information into her computer, and asked me the usual questions about what is being shipped, how we want to ship it all, etc. As we were finishing off all the input of the paperwork, my dad stalked back in with the loaded dolly, looking like he was going to fall over. Remember that I mentioned a few paragraphs up that he is in desperate need of a complete hip replacement – an operation he vehemently opposes. So he was hobbling a little and I was of course wondering why he wouldn’t just let me handle the dolly to begin with (we won’t go there), and he walked up to the counter and said loudly “Jesus, it’s like I’m a fucking stevedore.” Enter more Heather-employee laughter.

Incident Three: Dad announced for the entire Kinkos and FedEx to hear that we are not transporting any illegal goods

For absolutely no reason at all, my father then proceeded to announce loudly to the entire store that we were not transporting any illegal goods. I have no idea why, but for weeks prior he was worried that we were going to get in trouble for shipping California souvenirs to other states, or for sending so many boxes at one time (he said it may seem suspicious). I think my dad has been watching too many Columbo mysteries on television or something, because his paranoia seemed a little odd and out of place. In any event, he felt it necessary to announce loudly that nothing was being shipped illegally, in essence heightening the humiliation factor to a level that was beyond my own level of tolerance. I have a pretty high threshold, but this was just too much. So I said I’d wait in the car and left, laughing and simultaneously covering my shame in the process.

My father is quite clearly just as crazy as I am. When he came out he informed me that his devastating charm secured a smooth shipping of the packages. I’m sure that was it, dad.

You faithful blog followers can now begin betting on what bizarre happenings will take place on this trip. With the whole-family dynamic in place who in God’s name knows what will go down. This FedEx Kinkos incident was only the beginning.

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19 Comments on “Sadly, I can no longer go to my local FedEx Kinkos

  1. I promise to never set foot in the Ventura Fed-Ex Kinkos. You laugh at the hollowness of my promise, but as I live just two counties to the the north, it’s not out of the question that, while on a drive to LA and needing documents RIGHT NOW, I might have heretofore visited that establishment.

    • HAHAH! I do laugh, but I’m telling you it’s weird there! An update, actually, is that they destroyed one of my boxes! FedEx, of course, not that location. But of course I understand the need for copy and collation hahaha 🙂 Thanks for reading the post!

  2. Pingback: Planes, Trains, and B(itch)Mobiles | Heather Christena Schmidt

  3. Wow. Just wow.

    Wow.

    It seems that however a person is, age just makes them worse. Watching this happen to multiple members of my own family… Things like with the dolly — it’s like at some point the elderly just plain run out of patience for things they probably always thought were bullshit… Well! Reading about your upcoming trip should be interesting to say the least!

    Thanks for following! 🙂

    • HAHA! My father actually subscribes to my blog and gave me a ration of shit for writing that post! It was so hilarious, though … never a dull moment with that man and you are right about the running out of patience thing! Thanks for reading this one too!

  4. I was in the Fulfillment business for many years and one time we recieved a box in our Returns Department that upon opening was discovered to be full of dead rats.

    I can’t wait to read your blogs about the trip!

  5. At least at my local kinko’s they seem to have a don’t ask/don’t tell kind of policy when it comes to shipping things. For instance, I was shipping Christmas gifts across country and bought my boyfriend’s boozy gramma some whiskey. The post office all but physically removed me from the building when I tried to buy a box for it.. but fedex was like, DO YOU NEED TAPE FOR THAT PACKAGE?? A road trip sounds like amazing (hilarious) fun. Enjoy!

  6. Maybe your Dad watched that documentary on CNBC the other night about California grown Marijuana being a huge industry in the state now, and how some CA Pot sellers are taking orders online and shipping the goods via Fed Ex. Just a thought… Lol
    And hey, I used to have a list of places that I was no longer ALLOWED to go to, so look on the bright side! At least it’s still a matter of choice for you…

  7. Oh honey, I worked for FedEx. Go back. Within a week of being there you will have forgotten all about it. The fun about shipping don’t even start with the customers. Items that are illegal packed in wrapping that have a aroma of marijuana and being told its roses. Having a person walk-in with a automatic rifle. Yea I had to check my shorts. Shipping crickets in a wire box. I thought I was in the forest. Oh let’s not forget a call from someone who needed to ship a body to a school. I wondered what ever happened to that one.

  8. I hope you have time for trips to Starbucks because I’ll want updates on the road.

    Generally when I’m at home I have to avoid Target; it’s a minefield of high school memories.

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