Friday I stopped to pick up the mail on my way to town. Wouldn't you know it? There was my DISH bill. On the 18th. Due the 25th. I figured that if I mailed it THAT DAY, there was a chance it might arrive on time.
Of course, it WAS a Friday, and after the time the mail goes out at 11:00 or 11:30, depending which post office. I decided to drive it over to Sis-Town, to the main post office. That would save me a day, or FOREVER, since the AT&T bill I mailed at the dead mouse smelling post office two months ago STILL has not cleared the bank.
I wrote out my check and stuffed it in the enclosed envelope. Sweet Gummi Mary! I did NOT have a stamp! Even more annoying, I'd just bought 4 BOOKS of stamps on Monday! But they were on the kitchen counter. I was not wanting to turn around and drive back up the potholed gravel road, expending another 15-20 minutes by the time I parked and hobbled up the steps and re-petted the fleabags.
Off I went to town. I had a dollar in my pocket to pay for a single 55-cent stamp. It would have to be a stamp. None of that pressing the postage on it with a hand stamp. The return envelope had a message in the stamp area about paperless billing. How dare they!!!
There was only one guy ahead of me at the main post office. But he had an oblong box that he was jawing about. He had ordered something that wasn't right, and needed to send it back. Meanwhile, the new one he ordered was on the way. According to him, he had a couple thousand dollars in the mail until the matter was resolved. Not that I was eavesdropping, or even wanted to know. It's not an interesting tale. I think he was trying to impress the new counter girl, who is no spring chicken, but maybe a mid-summer chicken.
Anyhoo... he could have been filling out the label she gave him with the marker she gave him, rather than chatting like he was on a first date. Counter Girl was waiting for him to shut up so she could ask him the address, to type in for another label she was printing out with postage on it. I bear him no ill will. He seemed like a pleasant enough fellow. Although inefficient. He might have been miffed at ME for horning in on his pick-up spiel.
Anyhoo... Counter Girl motioned me to the counter after telling him he could shift over to the side for room to do his label-writing.
"I can help you while he's doing that."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hold up the line."
"That's okay. I don't have anywhere I have to be." [Even though it was already going on 4:00, and I wanted to get home and eat some ham salad for my lupper. It's not HIS fault that I sleep until 11:30, then play Candy Crush until my lives run out.] "I just need one stamp, to mail my bill."
"That is just as important as anyone else's business!"
"Well, I'm not sure I need the royal treatment for a 55-cent stamp!"
"All transactions and all customers are equally important!"
She was the gal who had the TRAINEE notice posted the other day when I bought the stamps. I described her to The Pony.
"Short blond hair. A bob. Almost shoulder length. Not real young or real old. But more young than old."
"That describes about a dozen of the women who work there, but if she was training, she's probably the one I went to orientation with. I guess SHE really listened to the part about customer service!"
Yeah. I guess she did. She was very polite. Then again, maybe she saw the name on the return address, and realizes we're practically FAMILY.