Dear Old Ladies Who Know Each Other in the Lunch-Line at the Post Office:
I am glad that you have friends in town. I’m glad that you can go anywhere and see three people you know immediately. I hope I get there someday.
But for today, I need you to understand something.
I am on my lunch break. I am waiting for a very long time at the local post office during my lunch break because that’s the only time of my day where I am off work AND the post office is open. Normally, I would just figure out another way to get the 41 cents I need to send my European sister a nice card (for instance, turning tricks).
But she NEEDS the fun of a cheery letter. It cannot wait.
And so, I’m standing in the purgatory of a small-town post office, watching the one guy behind the counter slog his way through the seventeen people who arrived before me, and trying to tune out the other twenty who got there after me.
I don’t mind when you step back, into my personal space. Maybe you can’t really see me.
I don’t mind when you begin talking around me, in another language, to the lady behind me. Maybe you think I understand, and that you’re including me in the conversation?
What I do mind, however, is when you graciously allow all of your fellow old ladies to get in front of you.
Further, I love how none of them made eye contact with me as they all shuffled me aside then gathered in a little gaggle of smugness.
You and your line-jumping friends made me hate old ladies today.