Long time readers will also know that I am not a great fan of standing in line to wait.
Indeed, I am the type who would rather drive an hour and 20 miles out of my way rather than spend 15 minutes going bumper to bumper.
That brings me to this morning.
The boss, my wife Anne, asked me if I would mind posting a few small packages at the local post office …7 in all and not that small, but don’t sweat the details.
I could not accept her offer quickly enough.
Just last week, I had stood in line to mail some out of Canada cards – at the same local post office, where the line had backed out into the street. Just my kind of thing as you know.
Anyway, when approaching their main door this morning– my fears were quickly realized as a woman was standing patiently outside…
But wait, she was waiting for me to open said door given my Christmas package burden. In I cruised.
And low and behold, there was no one inside save a lonely looking postal clerk.
Let me say that again – there were no customers inside – save for me and my seven (7) packages and it is only days from Christmas Day.
I rushed to the counter.
Since my ‘packages’ were gift wrapped, boxes were needed to complete the mailing process. The kind sales lady pointed me to the adjoining wall which was filled with all kinds of boxes, envelopes and various packaging paraphernalia; but quickly saw that I was overcome with the immense selection.
She started to make recommendations and I started to bring various options to her like an obedient puppy dog. By now, the non-existent line had filled in and reached back to the infamous main door. I turned to the assembled and profusely apologized for keeping them waiting. They glared back in unison.
The clerk and I fumbled trying to squeeze this sized gift into that sized box and for a while it looked like we were on the losing side of the fight.
Finally, the right sized boxes were found. Relief.
How much says I? Where to says the clerk?
What do you mean says I?
“There are no addresses on your packages”.
I looked on stupefied.
The silent glaring line burst out with uncontrollable laugher.
My packages had names on them, but no addresses.
“I guess there might be more than one ‘Dear Maude’ in Canada” I meekly suggested.
The line was now in hysterics.
I paid for the boxes, gather them up along with my 7 gift packages and marched – well, slinked out the door.
I’ll be back, I thought to myself, but what will be the chance of finding twice in a row, no line at the Post Office a few days before Christmas.
Not bloody likely.
As I see it…
‘K.D. Galagher’
