Bad apples

The post-office was fuller than a bull's bum. Most of us kept our cool as we slowly filed towards the front, but I was disgusted by the number of partially completed mailers discarded by cretins who'd either changed their minds mid-addressing or abandoned the whole exercise. I'm not talking about an envelope or small postpak "burnt" here and there - I'm talking about things like an international priority satchel written across in pen, then left crumpled on a shelf, unuseable. I had to put a large padded bag back because some selfish jerk had sealed it, ripped it open again and ruined the glue. Who does that?