As of approximately 8:11 this morning, the invitations are in the mail. I’ve worked so long and hard on those things, I feel like I’ve given birth to them! I packed them up as carefully as possible last night and then handed them over this morning to a perfect stranger who is sure to mangle and otherwise attempt to destroy those beautiful little pieces of paper. I had lofty ideals about having them hand cancelled, but trying to get that done in the city of Chicago makes the phrase “uphill battle” an understatement. I had done my research; I knew that I could probably get them hand cancelled if I tried hard enough, but that in the end they’ll go through sorting machines anyway. So when I went in this morning armed with my beautiful boxes of correspondence, the conversation went something like this:
Me: Gooooood Morning!
(Nothing but an evil glance from Grumpy McGrumperson post office worker. I quickly decide that the cheeriness is going to get me nowhere, tone it down a notch)
Me: Sir, these are my wedding invitations. I know that this is a busy place, but I really want them to arrive in the best condition possible. Is there any way they can be hand canceled?
Grumpy McGrumperson: ((LOUDEST SIGH EVER))
Me: (blurt out as fast as possible before I get kicked out) I’ll even do it myself if you’ll allow me, because I understand how busy you are and don’t want to bother you in the slightest.
Grumpy McGrumperson: It’s not going to matter.
Me: Really?
Grumpy McGrumperson: They all go through sorting machines anyway, unless they are sized so that they can’t fit through the machines. Those will fit through the machines.
Me: I read that if you bring them to the main post office they don’t go through the machines?
Grumpy McGrumperson: The local ones wouldn’t go through machines, but if they’re going anywhere else they’re going to go through those local sorting machines. It’s not like this is 1957 and people are sitting back there putting things into slots by hand. I don’t care what you do, those things are going to have to go through several machines to get where they’re going.
Knowing he’s right and not wanting to go to more post offices and have this same conversation, I hand them over. Seeing as how I am not a huge fan of ambiguity, wondering whether they will 1) arrive in the first place or 2) look like they’ve been delivered by a pack of lions, is making me slightly nuts. But alas, there is nothing I can do about it. If it helps at all, I’ve learned a few things along the way…
Even if you do have them hand cancelled, they’ll go through the sorting machines if they can fit through them. That will eliminate your stamps being stamped over with those huge things, but won’t guarantee that the bar code isn’t stamped across the bottom. The only way to make sure they don’t go through the machines is to size them so that they can’t fit, which will also mean you’re paying for parcel postage. Ahh, the joys of the post office.
But I shall leave you with a sneak preview of a non-mangled invitation. Once they (hopefully) arrive to our guests I’ll show you the whole shebang!
Are any of you going to try and have your invitations hand cancelled? Anyone else feel a sense of panic when handing them over to the post office?
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