This morning I got on a roll with wrapping presents that needed to be mailed and cards that needed to be sent out. I knew the post office would be a zoo, but I was feeling ho-ho-ho-y and merry merry, so I decided 'what the hell' and I brought my boxes and cards and a book to read in line to the post office.
I would like to dedicate "Why I Don't Live at the P.O." (which isn't really anything besides that one sentence...I think I get the point across) to the following people:
*To the three people who decided their time was more valuable than mine and budged in front of me in the "line to wait for a parking spot." I'm not sure how they knew, in advance of opening doors and reverse lights, which cars were going to be leaving, but they did, and zoomed around me (completely ignoring me and several other cars in line) and stole my spot not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES. And let me tell you--kindergartner behavior begets kindergartner behavior. I didn't key any cars or anything, but I shot some real nasty looks and told one of them "really nice. Thank you." Because I pulled up alongside the non-parking part of the drive so I could address the last budger. Hey, if they're going to be assholes, so will I.
*To the man who stood in line behind me, nay, ON me, and breathed ON ME. Dude, personal space has definitely lost its value in this great country of ours, but do you really need to expel your air onto me? Do you? And while we're at it, how about if you maybe stop bellowing at your wife and making yourself look like a total asshole. The woman is trying to mail something to either your son or your grandson who is serving overseas in the military. There's no need to swear at her and call her stupid. You're stupid, and you demonstrated that in front of about fifty people at the post office. Yeah, that's why we all turned to stare at you.
*To the aforementioned woman. Listen, Lady, I can tell that you have a lot to bear in your life. I can appreciate that, because a husband who treats you like that in public has to be an Even Greater Asshole in private. So you do have my sympathy. However, that doesn't give you the right to wander around the post office and break into lines whenever you feel like it to request whatever you might need when the post office employees are trying to help other customers in an efficient and Christmas-y manner. I understand you not wanting to wait in line with your wedded asshole, but I got things to do today.
*To the two women standing near the "forms" table. Isn't it fun when you run into people you know randomly in town? I think it's awesome. Here's what's not awesome: the two of you talking at dance-club-volume on a quiet Saturday morning. Have you both stayed so attached to your cell phones and ipods that you've begun to lose your hearing? Because, really, I don't care about your conversation. I don't care about what your plans are, or how you ran in to so-and-so and how funny it is to run into people you know in, uh, your TOWN. And, just so you know, the P.O. is not a social gathering place. It's not a coffee shop, or a bar, or even a street corner. It isn't a place for you to get caught up on all the latest news. It's a place for you to mail written communcation and move along. Or, maybe you want to start a new trend of standing in the middle of the room like teenagers do in a high school hallway and shoot the shit for three hours. Nifty idea. Do it at a P.O. other than mine.
*To Fabulous Asian Postal Employee. I don't remember your name, but you help me often at the post office. You've mailed my submissions for literary journals, you mailed my graduate school application, and now you mailed two very important gifts for me. You apologized on the behalf of The Aforementioned Woman, and smiled and said Merry Christmas. You gave me the opportunity to be friendly and shake off all of the other asshole people I'd encountered so far in your business. I smiled at you and asked how you were doing, we talked about presents, and we exchanged "merry Christmas" and "Have a good day". You're awesome, Fabulous Asian Postal Employee.
*To Tim. I like looking at you when I'm at the P.O. because you're cute. I don't know why you took the day off, but you really should have asked me first. You're forgiven this time, but don't do it again.
I'm sure my brilliant "Why I Don't Live at the P.O." will be a bestseller. After all, I'm not the only one, right?