Waiting in the worst line ever.
Yesterday at the post office, I waited in line. As usual. It was a line of people waiting to mail stuff. And as usual, there was only one Post Office worker person there to mail stuff for us.

So, we waited.

One by one, she helped the people in line. Mind you, we waited. In line.

One lady decided to strike up a conversation with the one Post Office worker person. She needed a money order, which took only a minute or so to process. Then she just stood there, remarking at how most post offices at lunch are packed full of people, but this one isn't especially busy at the moment. She asked the Post Office worker person if this post office ever gets busier. Those of us still waiting in line then heard a commentary on the busy seasons of this particular post office.

The lady finally gave the conversation a rest and left. Only moments before I was about to throw a fit right there on the floor, due to waiting in line at the post office.

We all moved up one place in line.

The lady right in front of me stepped up for her turn with the Post Office worker person. She needed a book of stamps. This was good. It would be my turn soon.

But, this lady didn't want just any book of stamps. She wanted a specific design. And she would settle for nothing less. So the Post Office worker person had to go from empty worker station to empty worker station, hunting down this specific design of stamps. She called out other designs, but to no avail.

This lady had to have the design she came to get.

We all waited in line, watching the stamp hunt before us.

Eventually the Post Office worker person ran out of places to look up front. She offered to go to the back and look back there. I knew that if she did that, she might never return. I prepared myself to throw a fit on the floor . . .

But, the lady suddenly decided not to make the Post Office worker person go to the back to look for this non-existent design of stamps. So . . .

she bought one stamp.

One stamp!

I stood in line behind a lady who bought ONE STAMP!!

She then put the stamp on her envelope, and walked outside the lobby to put the mail in the slot . . . which is right next to the machine that spits out one stamp at a time.

My patience was violated yesterday.

Not good. . .

C.T.

visit The Store of The Tyrant, where prices are already slashed and new designs appear without warning . . .