Don't Talk Postman Pat Talk to Me, Mumma

Trip Start Apr 18, 2007
Trip End Jun 29, 2007

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Flag of United States  , New York
Sunday, May 13, 2007

Today would not be sufficiently newsworthy of an entry had I not had to post a parcel or three.  I just have plans for a bit more window shopping...


One man behind the counter, two others doing nothing, a queue out the door and me trying to buy boxes and stamps. I queue once for the boxes. I am corrected by a roaming lady about technique and told I need to buy packing tape. A kindly lady in the queue (who has finished a Sudoku while waiting) offers to buy it for me. I pack two boxes, complete two varieties of every Customs, Registered and Insurance form possible, rejoin the queue. The next lady behind counter (change of shift by now) tells me I have put my "TO"s and "FROM"s in the wrong spots - WHY DON'T THEY PRINT THE SPOTS ON THE BOXES LIKE THAT?! - and won't lend me her pen to change it.

It seems the US has $300 billion to spend on wars but can't supply it's USPS staff with biros.

Sensing my anger and frustration here?

I pay for one package which could be changed easily then headed into town, Box 2 under my arm, for a pre-arranged rendez-vous with Liz, via the GPO. Open 24/7. Thought it might be bigger and faster...

Six windows open, six times the queues. Two policemen on duty, cleaners, but the merchandise shop is closed. Back in the next queue. By now, I have perfected the 'New York Attitude'.

I tell Daisy at the window I am not queueing again for anyone once my box is labelled, and I'm a'comin' straight back to her for immediate attention, see?

Her window is shut when I get there.

So this mumma walks straight passed all those arguing in the lines to the most distant window and barges in. I tell that lady what Daisy has said (perhaps) and I'm going near no queue again, you see.

"Now, how much my parcel is my costing?"

Four hours from whoa to go.
Ready to kill.
I possibly bowl at least three people over as I barge down the streets, elbows out, steam rising from my nostrils.
I snatch lip glosses from every Maybelline tout who confronts me in Times Square.  I use them as weapons against all ticket touts.
I'm one hour late meeting Liz. It's lucky her queue for Broadway tickets has stretched three blocks.

Will never, ever complain about the Elsternwick Post Office again.

Happy Mothers Day everyone.
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