Monday, March 18, 2002

I just got back from spending half an hour of my life at the post office. So, here I am, thirty minutes closer to death, and ready to tell you that eyes are rolling at the post office.

Seldom have I seen such an impressive display of eye-rolling. I waltzed in and grabbed one of the bakery-style now-serving numbers. Mine was 18. They were on 72. I used my weighty powers of deduction to figure out that there were not 46 people waiting in the post office, though, so I'd be OK. I settled back to watch a fine display of eye-rolling. People would wander in, figure out the "I have to take a number" thing, and then take one. Some people would perform an actual double take when they gazed upon the unrelenting horror of a number some fifty numbers ahead of the Now Serving sign. Much like a child who falls down on hardwood floor, post office customers will sigh and make "shooting-myself-in-the-head" gestures much more readily if they feel someone is actually paying attention to them.

I hate this. Don't implicate me in your whiny behavior. If you are really that busy, don't go to the post office at noon on a monday!

Then there are the people who take charge of the situation and stride boldly to the counter and demand an explanation of the number system, because something is obviously out of whack. It should be obvious to all assembled that they should be served with all possible alacrity because they have a constantly ringing cellphone and maybe even a bottom of the line BMW.

Maybe the post office could work out a program to cryogenically freeze such customers until their number is called. This would cut down on the peevishness no end. It is a valid argument, however, that in just about every movie that involves cryogenic freezing for space travel, etc, something goes horribly awry and people end up getting chased around in their underwear. That's not something I want to see. But I guess an angry, sleepy customer in their underwear being chased through the post office by a slavering Geigeresque alien would break the monotony a little bit.

The crux of the matter is this: The post office takes forever. You know this. Everyone knows this. There will be people in front of you who apparently have never mailed one single item in their entire time on this Earth. Get used to it.


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