Justin: In the Feast of Being Able to. Amen.

Post Office Fail

I had three bills to mail. I carried them around for three days meaning to get by the post office and buy stamps. Last night I went by the Fianna Hills post office around 6:30. The desk wouldn’t be open, of course, but I had some dollar bills for the stamp machine.

I wandered around inside thinking, where is that stamp machine. After one round through the three small halls, I figured I’d somehow missed it. After round 2, I thought, I’m missing something here. After round 3, it occurred to me: there isn’t a stamp machine.

We were not pleased.

Today at lunch I went down to the Garrison Ave. post office. They were open, so I went right to the desk and purchased a book of stamps. “Just curious, but you do have a stamp machine out there, right?”

“No, we took them out.”

I stood there staring at her. I wasn’t really sure what to say yet. I hadn’t planned on that being the answer. “You… took them… you don’t have stamp machines?”

“No, with the price change it was causing confusion.”

I stared some more. I’m sure she’d seen a similar look when she dumped her last boyfriend. I probably looked like a blind man listening for traffic.

“We may put them back some day, but they won’t take cash, only credit and debit cards.”

I have to be honest here. I wanted to jump up on the counter and make monkey noises.

“You don’t have stamp… ok… thank you ma’am. Have a nice day.” I turned like I was leaving the ticket window when the movie is sold out. As I walked away, grieving for our future, I heard the man back there with her ask her what my problem was. I thought, Really? He has to ask? Everyone else is fine with this new development? I didn’t hear her response, nor did I care.

Back at work the guys assured me they plan to stop delivering mail soon and move to only the sale of commemorative stamps of historic minorities and penguins.

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