United States Postal Service at 460 Brannan Street, San Francisco, California.

About a year ago my mother sent me an important package from home via USPS paying for the fastest and premium shipping, making sure that it gets delivered to me and that I sign for it, etc. I'm still so angry I'm writing this review. She spent a lot of money trying to MAKE SURE I get this package. It was marked as delivered, left at the front desk of my apartment complex. However, they didn't have it anywhere. I went to this location to try and get some help regarding this (maybe they could make sure it was actually delivered or see if they can direct me to someone who can help) and the man at the counter was the most unhelpful human being who I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. I used to look at all the horrible wars and dictators in history and wonder "how could somebody dehumanize someone else like that? How could somebody do this to another human being and make them suffer like that?" But after meeting this man I completely understood. I wouldn't classify him as a human but more as a horrible first-prototype customer service robot in a skin suit. No matter what I said or asked, he just told me that "if it's marked as delivered it's there and it's not my problem." It... Definitely is his problem isn't it? He works for the delivery service and my package wasn't where they said it was. A month later my mom gets the package back with "They no live here" sprawled across it in sharpie. The address perfectly matches the address on my ID which is the address I live at and am currently writing this review from. I live here. Worst experience I have ever had with another "human" being. Smashing my face against a wall until my package was found would have left me more satisfied.