Went home early from work today, because I wanted to pickup the Serenity DVD from the post office. So I raced home, grabbed the pickup ticket from my mailbox, hurried to the post office, where I arrived 10 minutes before closing time and then looked at the address on the ticket. Wrong post office. Damn. So I sprinted across town just to enter the main post office at about 15 seconds before they closed the door and joined the queue of last-minute-customers. Now I know that I'm not supposed to pickup a parcel at the post office the same day they tried to deliver it to me, but I always try anyways, because I usually end up with a nice elderly lady at the counter who goes to take a look if the parcel's already arrived, and usually this is indeed the case. So while I'm standing there in the queue waiting my turn, I survey the people behind the counter - 4 nice elderly ladys and 2 grumpy old men. So guess who I get when it's finally my turn - right, Grumpy Old Man #2. I can smell his unwillingness to do any more work even before he opens his mouth, now that it's already after 6PM, and he only glances at my ticket before waving me off, telling me to come back tomorrow. So "WTF you lazy old fart, but I CAN'T GO HOME SO EARLY EVERY DAY. I have a real job. Go look for my parcel now!" I don't say to him, but hang my head and leave, having happy thoughts of solving these kinds of problems Malcolm-Reynolds-style. Or maybe even James-T-Kirk-style. Hey, if I rip my shirt while wrestling this alien from Lazy Planet, Eldery Lady #4 might even be impressed and find my parcel for me.
Feel better now.
Who says every entry here has to be about cats, anyway? They don't do much but barf, crap and meow for my attention.
2 comments:
Ha, I would go for "Janye Cobb Style" to solve this problems *snicker*
What, sing glorious songs about myself until that old fart flees to the storage room? Might just work...
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