About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. One morning, while sorting packages in the PostalAnnex, a delivery driver noticed something peculiar: every time he opened a certain box, it emitted a faint, tinkling sound like tiny bells. No one else seemed to hear it. Over time, more and more drivers started reporting hearing those little bells. Finally, an old postal worker confessed: ‘Oh, that’s just our lucky charm—a tiny wind chime my great-grandmother gave us years ago.’ Everyone laughed, and from then on, whenever someone mentioned the PostalAnnex, they’d say, “That place where everyone hears little bells.”
2. In the early hours of every Monday morning, a postal worker named Alex would arrive at the PostalAnnex to start sorting mail. But one week, he discovered that some letters seemed to be mysteriously switching destinations overnight. Curious, Alex followed the trail and found himself in the mailroom’s secret compartment filled with swapped envelopes. Turns out, an old delivery driver had been playing pranks on everyone for years. The next Monday, when everyone gathered around, Alex announced: ‘Guys, meet our new mascot—Mr. Switcheroo!’ Everyone laughed, except for the poor guy who got stuck delivering love letters instead of bills.
3. One day after work, a regular asked the clerk: ‘Do you ever notice how letters always seem to arrive just as the mailbox is full?’ The clerk smiled and shrugged. ‘Maybe they’re like us,’ she said. ‘Always arriving right when things are hectic.’ A delivery driver chuckled from behind the counter, shaking his head with a smile. The regular nodded knowingly, then both laughed, realizing that sometimes life—and mail—just works out that way.
4. While standing in line at the PostalAnnex one afternoon, an elderly gentleman whispered to himself, 'I wonder if they stamp letters here or just dreams?' As he shuffled closer to the counter, a young delivery driver leaned over and asked him, ‘Sir, are you okay?’ The old man looked up with a twinkle in his eye and replied, ‘Just thinking aloud, sonny. I always wondered if this place stamps envelopes—or maybe it’s souls that get processed here.’ With a chuckle, he added, ‘Guess I’ll never know until I mail myself!’