The United States Post Office is a real microcosm of American society. Or so I am now given to believe, following my first visit to such an institution yesterday.
Standing in line, waiting patiently for my turn (and for a disgruntled ex-employee to burst through the door brandishing a shotgun), I observed my fellow customers.
Most were carrying Christmas presents bound for distant friends and relatives. One guy was scratching his head, presumably wondering whether he had left the gas on back at his apartment. But the lady in front of me took the cake.
Actually, she didn't really take the cake, but she DID take a fistful of pamphlets and posting slips from the brochure stand near the line. And stuffed them straight in her pocket.
Why did she do such a thing? No idea. But I was afraid she was concealing a shotgun on her person, so I didn't tap her on the shoulder to ask.
But I loved the lady from the Post Office who walked down the line, grilling each prospective customer in the manner of grouchy Army Sargeant to rookie cadets:
What are you here for?
Do you have everything you need?
Why are you here today?
State your name and business, maggot.
I resolved that, if pressed by this woman, I would dob on the kleptomaniac in front of me and make her empty her pockets and incur the wrath of the postal service.
But it didn't come to that. The purpose of my business was to purchase international postage stamps. How boring. And fortunately for me, NOT a sentence punishable by shotgun death, so I emerged bullet-free and stamps in hand.
Phew.
3 comments:
Always answer a question with a question eg:
Lady: "What are you doing here?"
Gabatron: "What are YOU doing here?"
and if that fails......
Lady:"What are you doing here?"
Gabatron: "Why?"
Lady: "Because I asked"
Gabatron: "Why?"
and so on - this is a great game to play with your parents when driving long distances ie: to Melbourne. "Are we there yet" is another option with a similar outcome.
Play this game at your own risk!
Oh you are too funny - this is EXACTLY what I'm going to do next time!
And I love that I'm called Gabatron in this scenario - no one will mess with 'Gabatron the Gabinator'
You have to come up with more than a cleptomaniac in the que to beat the Royal mail patrons - don't make me remind you of the sheer lunacy encountered at the Paisley Post Office - I cannae dae it!
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