Who likes a line at the post office?
I am pretty sure I am unique in all the world in one way: I like standing in line at the post office.
I know that in the broad scheme, long lines at the post office are a bad thing, symptom of inadequate pay, inadequate staffing and general governmental service decline. That I don't like.
But the waiting experience is fine.
As I did in Philadelphia (4th Street) and in Centre County, Pennsylvania (Boalsburg), I have in Portland identified the small neighborhood post office with minimally harried clerks in which to do business. This branch, Sellwood, is .75 miles from my apartment.
On a recent visit, I arrived around lunchtime, and the line was out the door.
NB: If you don't like lines, do not arrive around lunchtime.
I had no sooner claimed my spot at the end when two gentlemen came up behind me. These turned out to be two of the most pleasant people on whom I've ever eavesdropped, talking about travel and grandchildren and Christmas in delighted tones. It was like return of the Car Talk guys; I couldn't help but smile.
These two were friends who happened to encounter one another in line. Ahead of me were a man and a woman who apparently had met when he let her take cuts. They were talking about his recent trip to New York City - nine shows in eight days!
This fellow was not young (in general, young people do not use the post office), and I was quite impressed and said so (not the young part, the so many shows, so little time part). When the woman finally achieved the window, the traveller turned to me and admitted that the trip had been exhausting but no worries because he was taking January off.
"January," he opined, "is not for resolutions. January is for reflection. I make my resolutions in February."
Recently I finished Kate Atkinson's latest, Shrines of Gaiety, in which one of the many (many) characters, the successful and morally challenged matriarch of a large family, goes for advice to fortune-telling cards.
I think getting life wisdom from the guy in front of me in line at the Post Office makes at least as much sense. Therefore, I will be holding off on resolutions till next month myself.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a box to mail. I wonder who I'll meet in line this time?
Martha
I know that in the broad scheme, long lines at the post office are a bad thing, symptom of inadequate pay, inadequate staffing and general governmental service decline. That I don't like.
But the waiting experience is fine.
As I did in Philadelphia (4th Street) and in Centre County, Pennsylvania (Boalsburg), I have in Portland identified the small neighborhood post office with minimally harried clerks in which to do business. This branch, Sellwood, is .75 miles from my apartment.
On a recent visit, I arrived around lunchtime, and the line was out the door.
NB: If you don't like lines, do not arrive around lunchtime.
I had no sooner claimed my spot at the end when two gentlemen came up behind me. These turned out to be two of the most pleasant people on whom I've ever eavesdropped, talking about travel and grandchildren and Christmas in delighted tones. It was like return of the Car Talk guys; I couldn't help but smile.
These two were friends who happened to encounter one another in line. Ahead of me were a man and a woman who apparently had met when he let her take cuts. They were talking about his recent trip to New York City - nine shows in eight days!
This fellow was not young (in general, young people do not use the post office), and I was quite impressed and said so (not the young part, the so many shows, so little time part). When the woman finally achieved the window, the traveller turned to me and admitted that the trip had been exhausting but no worries because he was taking January off.
"January," he opined, "is not for resolutions. January is for reflection. I make my resolutions in February."
Recently I finished Kate Atkinson's latest, Shrines of Gaiety, in which one of the many (many) characters, the successful and morally challenged matriarch of a large family, goes for advice to fortune-telling cards.
I think getting life wisdom from the guy in front of me in line at the Post Office makes at least as much sense. Therefore, I will be holding off on resolutions till next month myself.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a box to mail. I wonder who I'll meet in line this time?
Martha
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