I love the Swiss and I want to strangle them all

I'm currently going through a typical and frustrating Swiss experience.  It's so dang Swiss!

Here's the story:  Every year, anyone who lives here buys a half-price train pass, which allows you to buy train tickets at half of the posted price.  (It's really just a scam to gouge the tourists.  No one who lives here pays full price.)

I renewed mine about a month ago.  The new pass usually comes in the mail in about a week.  I've been watching for mine, but it's never arrived.  It must have gotten lost somewhere along the way.

I've now had three almost identical conversations with the clerks at the train station when I've gone to explain my dilemma.  The clerk patiently listen to me as I tell him or her that I renewed my pass but that I never received it in the mail.  They then call some central number to find out what's going on.  After they talk in Swiss German for a minute, they hang up the phone and, pleased as punch, report to me that my pass was mailed out at the end of May.  They then contentedly wait for me to go away.

At that point, I explain that yes, I'm aware that my pass was mailed.  The problem is that it never made it to my house.

There's some puzzlement as the poor clerk tries to process this information.  It's difficult, I can tell.  This just doesn't happen in Switzerland.  When something is mailed, it arrives, period.  The clerk's first response is usually to repeat that it was mailed to me at the end of May.  After that, the clerk will pull up my address on their monitor and confirm that it's still my address.  Yes, I say.  They'll then ask if my name is on my mailbox.  Yes, I say.

At this point, the game shifts to "Blame the Ignorant American."  They come up with different variations, but they amount to the same thing:  this is my fault.  The second clerk patiently explained to me what the envelope would look like and suggested that I had probably thrown it away by mistake.  The third clerk suggested that I go home and conduct a thorough search of my apartment because it must be there somewhere.  (I found that remark to be so condescending that for the first time in my life, I felt the urge to strike a female Swiss train clerk.  I suppressed it.)

I haven't made much progress.  They keep giving me temporary passes under the assumption that it will show up in the mail or that I'll finally come across it in my apartment.  I may just live on temporary passes until I leave at the end of July.

On the other hand, I love the Swiss.  I'm taking the kids to our public pool tomorrow.  As I've mentioned before, it's spotless.  I know that I shall never again see a public pool as clean and well-maintained as a Swiss public pool.