Adventures in the Post Office: A True Story

It is a wonderful December morning. There's a layer of fresh snow carpeting the ground, it's chilly but not too cold, and I am clutching my delicious peppermint mocha from Starbucks, breathing in the rich, sweet fumes. It's a great day to go to the post office.

My dad and I arrive at the parking lot; he carries the package, I carry my mocha. We are going to mail my sister's birthday presents today, and they're all wrapped up and neatly packed in one of those "it fits, it ships" boxes. We go inside and patiently wait in line. There's a short line for the window, but of course it's moving slowly, so we wait and talk.

A woman with a baby and two small children is in front of us in line. The children are very well behaved, and they munch happily on the pretzels that their mother has given them. The little girl and I make faces at each other. She giggles. The cute little baby in the mother's arms is sleeping quietly. It's just a normal day at the post office.

There's another line which feeds to the same windows but is meant for special services. A woman with a huge shopping cart overflowing with identical brown paper packages gets in this line. Everyone stares. There are so many packages. It's like that scene in the new version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, when all of the Whos are doing their Christmas shopping, and they all have piles upon piles of presents. This woman's packages are wrapped in plain brown paper, but she does resemble a Who. Her nose is red and upturned, but her face looks more like Professor Trelawny's. Everyone silently prays that they will get to the front before this Who-lady does, but no such luck for us. The man in front of her finishes his business, and she goes up to the window with her shopping cart full of what must be at least sixty packages. The post office worker's eyes widen, but she begins the tasks of preparing all of the packages for shipping. The Who-lady unloads her packages and stamps them one by one. 

My dad and I exchange glances. 

"It's like some sort of comedy," he comments.

"Or a reality show," I suggest. 

Other people contribute similar remarks, but the Who-lady does not hear us. She stamps a few more packages, and then says to the post office worker:

"I'll be right back. I have to get the rest out of my car."

The post office worker's jaw drops. "Are you serious?" she says with an air of attitude, like somebody who has just been told that they have been sentenced to five years of counting grains of sand as a punishment for something they must have done in a previous life. 

The Who-lady doesn't seem to be in any mood to mess around. "Oh, I am very serious." 

She leaves with the shopping cart, while my dad, the other patrons and I all begin theorizing about where the hidden cameras might be placed, and whether we'll see ourselves on YouTube later as a comedic skit about how real-life people in a post office might react to a film-like situation. We wait for her to come back. 

When the Who-lady returns, the cart is even more full than before, with piles of identical packages towering about twice the height of the edge. She does not say anything, or even acknowledge the fact that everyone is staring at her. She just begins stamping every package and setting them on the counter, one by one. We can tell that the post office worker is not very pleased, but at the same time, she is trying not to laugh. 

Eventually, another window opens and our line once again begins to move. My dad and I mail the birthday package, and we exit the scene, leaving behind about fifteen bewildered people and one determined Who-lady.

The End. 


So yeah, that was my adventure today. I thought I would share it with you because it seemed really funny at the time, but now that I read over it, it seems kind of mundane. Oh well - I hope you enjoyed the two minutes of your life that I just wasted.

Happy Advent!

Peace,
Virgil