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~Tuesday~  Today I'm thankful that I have a job in which I can adjust my lunch hour to accommodate the Cameron Village branch of the US Post Office, which has decided to take its lunch hour when I normally would take mine.

I arrived there at 1:05, five minutes into being open after their 12:00-1:00 closing. I joined about eleven other customers waiting to be served.

There were four postal clerks in the place, distributed as follows:

  1. The main service desk consisted of three stations, two of which were staffed, and one of which wasn't.

  2. There was a separate station staffed, on the side and toward the back, which was for Passport Services. For almost the entire time I was in line, that clerk helped a lady getting her passport. To her credit, when she finally did finish with the passport person, she did call the next customer in line over to her station.

  3. One of the two clerks at the main service desk helped only one person almost the entire time I was in line, as that customer evidently had some kind of "complicated order" going on. This means that, essentially, there was one clerk available to help every one of us waiting in line.

  4. There was a fourth clerk in the place as I mentioned, who would have nicely filled that empty main service desk station to whittle away at the dozen or so customers in line. But evidently, 1:05 was the perfect time to refill all of slots of envelopes, sleeves, and boxes for purchase—none of which were empty, and none of which any customer needed or couldn't find. The only thing that was more annoying than watching her not serve waiting customers, was the huge slogan on the back of her vest: "We appreciate your business!"

In a desperate attempt to distract myself from that irritation, I turned to the other customers for some entertainment.

A young lady being served by the only clerk serving customers asked, "Do you have any love stamps, like for a wedding?"

"These are the only ones we have," he said holding up a sample.

And then, thinking further, he asked, "45 or 65?" meaning 45-cent or 65-cent stamps.

"Oh, just the 45s. Is that how much stamps are now? I had no idea," she replied.

"How many did you need?" he asked.

"100."

"That's $45.00."

She paid with her credit card and left.

The clerk took the next person in line, and then a few seconds later, she stuck her head back in the door and said to the clerk, "Oh my god. I don't know what I'm doing. I really need 122 of them, not a 100."

He said, "Just come back up here."

She did, saying to the 20 eyes still composing the line, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry to cut back ahead of everyone."

She paid for that batch, and then leaving for the second time, she gazed at the line saying, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

As she passed by me, I acknowledged her with, "Take care, Bridezilla."

Fortunately, she laughed, I laughed, and so did the other 10 spirits hosting those 20 eyes. But everyone knew I was only partially kidding.

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