Friday, July 07, 2006
Post Office Blues
I stopped by the post office after work today because I had a couple of bills to mail and I was out of stamps. I got a parking spot right out in front of the post office and walked inside.
There was a long line of people waiting to be helped by a postal clerk, and only two clerks were on duty. I got in line behind a man wearing a green shirt and blue jeans, then I quickly decided that I didn't want to wait on line, so I headed straight for the vending machine.
A woman wearing a long tan skirt, red blouse, small wire-framed glasses, and a floppy straw hat beat me to it. No big deal, I figured. How long could she possibly take? She looked to be about 40 years old, but somehow, her clothing made her look like an old lady. As I soon learned, she moved like an old lady as well.
The woman crouched down in front of the vending machine, and started rummaging through her oversized purse. I guess she had a lot of junk in there, because it took her forever to find what she was looking for: her change purse. Then she started fingering through her change purse, picking out one coin at a time in slow motion.
I reached in my pocket and pulled out a handful of change. I jingled the change in the palm of my hand to make her aware that I was waiting behind her, in the hopes that she would show a little consideration and get on with it. When that didn't work, I started breathing heavily like Tony Soprano. She glanced over her shoulder at me, then got back to her slow motion coin counting. Then she took all of the coins that she had slowly pulled out, and dumped them right back into the change purse. She started rummaging through her purse again. After another excruciating minute of rummaging, she pulled out her wallet, and slowly took out a ten dollar bill. She finally stood up, money in hand, ready to make her purchase.
And then, she just stood there staring at the vending machine. Had she never used a vending machine before? I mean, it's not like ordering coffee from Starbucks. It's simple!
She pushed the ten dollar bill into the bill slot on the vending machine. The machine spit it out. She pushed it in again, and again, the machine spit it out. Realizing that she was putting it in backwards, she turned the bill around and shoved it in the slot again. This time, it stayed in.
Then she got back to staring at the vending machine again, slowly extending her index finger as she prepared to make her purchase. Finally deciding on a book of ten first class stamps, she pushed a button, and a book of stamps dropped in the tray near the bottom of the machine. The machine displayed a message asking her if she wanted to make another purchase. She pondered this for what seemed like several years. Then she pushed the "Yes" button, and selected another book of ten first class stamps. Again, the machine asked her if she wanted to make another purchase. Several decades later, she pushed the "No" button, and her change came pouring out of the machine. She meticulously gathered her two books of stamps and change from the machine and stepped aside.
Halleluiah!
As I started pumping my change into the machine, I glanced over at the service counter. The man in the green shirt who I was standing behind earlier was just finishing up with one of the clerks. Thanks to the middle-aged old lady, my decision to use the vending machine saved me no time whatsoever.
Do me a favor, people: if you see me behind you in line, either move quickly or get the hell out of my way.
- Bernie ¶ 6:40 PM
I stopped by the post office after work today because I had a couple of bills to mail and I was out of stamps. I got a parking spot right out in front of the post office and walked inside. There was a long line of people waiting to be helped by a postal clerk, and only two clerks were on duty. I got in line behind a man wearing a green shirt and blue jeans, then I quickly decided that I didn't want to wait on line, so I headed straight for the vending machine.
A woman wearing a long tan skirt, red blouse, small wire-framed glasses, and a floppy straw hat beat me to it. No big deal, I figured. How long could she possibly take? She looked to be about 40 years old, but somehow, her clothing made her look like an old lady. As I soon learned, she moved like an old lady as well.
The woman crouched down in front of the vending machine, and started rummaging through her oversized purse. I guess she had a lot of junk in there, because it took her forever to find what she was looking for: her change purse. Then she started fingering through her change purse, picking out one coin at a time in slow motion.
I reached in my pocket and pulled out a handful of change. I jingled the change in the palm of my hand to make her aware that I was waiting behind her, in the hopes that she would show a little consideration and get on with it. When that didn't work, I started breathing heavily like Tony Soprano. She glanced over her shoulder at me, then got back to her slow motion coin counting. Then she took all of the coins that she had slowly pulled out, and dumped them right back into the change purse. She started rummaging through her purse again. After another excruciating minute of rummaging, she pulled out her wallet, and slowly took out a ten dollar bill. She finally stood up, money in hand, ready to make her purchase.
And then, she just stood there staring at the vending machine. Had she never used a vending machine before? I mean, it's not like ordering coffee from Starbucks. It's simple!
She pushed the ten dollar bill into the bill slot on the vending machine. The machine spit it out. She pushed it in again, and again, the machine spit it out. Realizing that she was putting it in backwards, she turned the bill around and shoved it in the slot again. This time, it stayed in.
Then she got back to staring at the vending machine again, slowly extending her index finger as she prepared to make her purchase. Finally deciding on a book of ten first class stamps, she pushed a button, and a book of stamps dropped in the tray near the bottom of the machine. The machine displayed a message asking her if she wanted to make another purchase. She pondered this for what seemed like several years. Then she pushed the "Yes" button, and selected another book of ten first class stamps. Again, the machine asked her if she wanted to make another purchase. Several decades later, she pushed the "No" button, and her change came pouring out of the machine. She meticulously gathered her two books of stamps and change from the machine and stepped aside.
Halleluiah!
As I started pumping my change into the machine, I glanced over at the service counter. The man in the green shirt who I was standing behind earlier was just finishing up with one of the clerks. Thanks to the middle-aged old lady, my decision to use the vending machine saved me no time whatsoever.
Do me a favor, people: if you see me behind you in line, either move quickly or get the hell out of my way.
- Bernie ¶ 6:40 PM
