Some People's Kids: the Post Office Rocks

Monday, December 10, 2007

the Post Office Rocks

I just spent the last 20 minutes or so at the local post office waiting to send off one of my graduate school applications and I had a blast. The place was packed with people who were probably getting their x-mas gifts sent off in time for the holidays. I guess they could have been sending off their Hanukkah presents as well but those aren't going to arrive until Tevet and that could be a problem. If today was any indication of what a normal day is like I'll likely be spending my time away from work just hanging around over there. I talked to an old lady about the differences between the post office in Montana and the one here, which contrary to popular belief is actually an interesting conversation, and I ran into Nubile's ex-ladyfriend.

*Me- " Whats crack-a-lackin'?"
Her- "Nutin'."
Me- "aight."
Her- "Aight, peace."

I think my favorite part of the whole escapade took place at the counter around the corner from the single-file line that everybody stood in. The man at the station was calling the next person in line up to his counter and I happened to be one of the lucky customers beckoned into the bowels of the post office. After paying my $4.60 (I had to send it priority because I waited until the last second to decide that I did, indeed, need to get me some more learnin') and not paying the bullshit 60 extra cents to track the package i was witness to one of the greatest arguments ever.

The clerk was a salty, rotund little man who obviously hated his job. I got all of this from his attempt to sell me the previously mentioned bullshit extra 60 cents and his subsequent scowl when I told him why I didn't want to. As I walked back to the desk a man came in the door and followed me. Before I even finished my transaction he forced a $20 bill in front of me and demanded a roll of stamps. The clerk told him that he was not in line and would have to wait his turn. The man told him that he was in line now and demanded his stamps. They went back and forth a bit longer with the clerk yelling at the top of his lungs about how he had cut line and the customer smirking and being a dickhead. I swear to god I thought the clerk was going to go postal (pun fully intended).

When the man asking for the stamps finally went to the back of the line around the corner the clerk looks at me and goes, " That guys crazier than you think. I know him, he sells houses. You don't even know." Those three sentences left me dumbfounded. The origin of the argument left me dumbfounded.

If someone could please explain what makes a realtor crazy (outside of that whole subprime loan business) I would be much obliged. I am vexed... this is terribly vexing.

*dialog may not match actual conversation

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