My Secret Love Affair

I have a little confession to make, I LOVE, love, love the post office! I know it's crazy, some people put it right up there with visiting the revenue office, but I can't help myself! I love it that people who seem perfectly happy getting out of their cars in the parking lot are suddenly transformed into an angry mob as soon as they step foot through the doors.

I love the bizarre people and the bizarre lines. It seems it always takes forever to get in and out. The line can be miles long or you can walk in to find only one person in front of you but it's some strange old man with a giant, black garbage bag full of tiny, identical packages that all need some kind of special delivery.

I love listening to everyone grumbling about the post office and yet they're there. I love the fact that the postal workers are unfazed by the grumpiness and are always polite and jolly. I always think they are the kind of people that I could be friends with, they seem strange and interesting and hysterical. When I ask for my package to be stamped "fragile" they pull out an ancient, battered, laminated comic that's been cut from a newspaper. It has an illustration of a package marked fragile that has been mutilated by the post office. I laugh everytime because they think it's brilliant everytime, and so do I! They stamp "spoiled" on my boys hands and laugh "now you can say they've been spoiled by the post office!" I love it when I get to go in by myself and I love it when I have to load my fussy 2 year old into the flimsy umbrella stroller and listen to "Out! Out! Finshed!" and constantly grab his 3 year old brother by the hood of his coat to keep him from socializing his way through the line of customers until he's lost in the crowd. Now that's true love.