I worked as a postman for 25 years, after 21 years military service. Best job I ever had [ really only had 2, I guess] Back in the day, we all cared. If you didn't go the extra yard, your fellow posties jumped on you. In those days, at the beginning, the offices were relatively small, average about 10 to 20 postmen, everyone knew their customers, if a customer had a complaint they normally complained to the postie., or the next on the run. It was sorted out in house. Then came the revolution of super centres, putting all regional post offices into huge delivery centres. Could be nearly 100 posties in the one centre. The pressure was on, no overtime. Delivery became rush, rush, rush. The connection between postie and customer , for the most part, disappeared.
Used to be, managers were promoted up the ladder, thru the ranks. Then came the contracted managers, never worked as a postie, or on the counter, didn't know the culture, 2 year contracts [ I think] with a brief -eg, stop overtime, etc. In the smaller centres, sickies were few and far between, unless genuinely sick. In the bigger centres, you can have up to 20 off a day. Small things started to happen, in the old days you could walk into your local post office and talk to the manager about a problem. after super centres, sorting problems was a full time job. So a position was created just for complaints. Can you believe it, people couldn't walk into the office to complain, they couldn't ring up the office to complain, there was a dedicated complaints number, and , like call centres, it was somewhere in Australia. We think. This is all about 10 years ago, things may have changed. I hope. The formula was, smaller the office, the more dedicated the staff, bigger the super centre, forget it.
When I started, back in 1985, in Fortitude Valley, we walked to deliver. Had cups of tea with customers, and generally had a great relationship with them. At the end, around 2009, in the Sandgate delivery centre, it was just a job, customers were not happy, couldn't wait to retire. Now, before the postie can deliver a letter at Sandgate, they have to ride their bikes from Virginia. And back, in the afternoon. My old mates tell me there has never been so much overtime , ever. And they call it progress. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my time in the job, for the most part, but that was only because of the mates I worked with, in the end. Not because of the job, unlike when I started. And that is sad, but I guess that's modern Australia. Phewww! Rant over.

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