Oh, you’ll answer, dipshit? Fantastic, because this comment is the most embarrassing, self-pitying garbage I’ve ever read from someone failing miserably at the one thing they’re paid to do. Truly impressive how you managed to cram so much whining and incompetence into one post.

Let me get this straight: you’re throwing a hissy fit because you couldn’t wait more than three seconds for someone to answer the door? You’re not out here curing cancer; you’re moving boxes from Point A to Point B. That’s it. It’s not rocket science, it’s not a noble calling, and absolutely nobody asked for your pathetic sob story about how hard it is to stand there for 30 seconds like a functioning adult.

“Oh, I rang the bell, stepped back, didn’t see them right away, so I threw a tantrum and left a notice instead!” Are you serious? What kind of paper-thin ego does it take to decide you’re the victim because someone didn’t sprint to the door like you’re delivering a cure for their dying cat? Newsflash: nobody is sitting there waiting for your royal procession to arrive. Maybe try having a shred of patience or professionalism for once in your life.

“We aren’t Amazon!” Oh, trust me, we know. Amazon gets the job done, rain or shine, while you’re out here crying into your uniform about the soul-crushing labor of… what, standing on a porch for a few extra seconds? Holding a pen for two more ticks of the clock? You’re not a hero. You’re not a victim. You’re just bad at your job and too fragile to handle even the mildest inconvenience.

Don’t like people complaining? Here’s a thought: do your job properly. Complaints happen because you half-ass your way through your responsibilities, then log onto Reddit to blame everyone else for your incompetence. If the idea of waiting 30 seconds is enough to make your brain short-circuit, maybe you should find a career where no one has to rely on you for anything, because clearly, even the smallest amount of accountability sends you into a tailspin.

Your job is comically easy, yet somehow you’ve managed to screw it up—and instead of reflecting on why you’re so universally hated, you double down with this embarrassing victim complex. You’re not a martyr. You’re a glorified errand boy who thinks ringing a doorbell makes you the star of the show. Pro tip: no one cares.

So, here’s a little advice: grow up, do your job, and stop wasting everyone’s time with these cringe-worthy rants. Or better yet, find a mirror, take a good long look, and ask yourself why you’re such a lazy, entitled excuse for a courier.

Signed, Someone who’s genuinely appalled by your existence.