Postal phenomenon

I’m not a big fan of the post office.  Now, let’s be clear: I do appreciate the postal system.  And I am a fan of our mail carriers; the two gentlemen who ensure our mail arrives every day (even in 15 inches of snow, and torrential downpours, and 95+ degree heat) are considerate, polite, and reliable. But the actual post office itself – well, it leaves something to be desired.

I only go to the post office on occasion (perhaps just a few times a year); but whenever I do go, it’s usually packed with customers impatiently waiting to be served, and staffed by just one or two people who often seem to need assistance to complete the task before them.  When I finally get to arrive at the counter, the postal employee is routinely unable to help me – either the office has just run out of whatever I came in for, or the person who takes care of the task I need assistance with is away and won’t be back until tomorrow, or I don’t have the proper documentation to pick up whatever mysterious package waits for me and I have to return with three forms of ID….

Yeah, frequently I get annoyed at the post office.

And today, I had to go there.

After internally debating if I really need postcard stamps, I resigned myself to the fact that yes, I do.  And the only place to get them is the post office.

So c’mon Stef, let’s go.

I sighed; then got in my car, drove to the local station, and went inside.

As I opened the door to the lobby, I literally did a slight double-take.  No lines.  None.
I walked right up to the counter.

A postal worker greeted me warmly.  And smiled.  And asked how he could help.
And he was sincere as he offered the question.

“Um…”, I started, honestly a little shaken by this alternate-reality experience I was having.  “Um, I need postcard stamps, please.”

The man replied, “Sure, we have plenty.  How many do you need?”

“Um…”, I started again, sounding not-very-intelligent.  “Um, a sheet?”

The man withdrew a sheet of postcard stamps from his drawer, swiftly rang me up, gave me correct change back, and wished me a good day.

I gingerly picked up the stamps and the money, and walked out the door, still a little dazed.

Once I was back in my car, and had processed all that just occurred…I smiled.

Stef