Frog Blog

i know most people don't normally have electrifying experiences in the post office, but last week i had one of the worst.

it was 11:20 friday morning. the post office near my apartment closes during the day from noon to 2 pm for lunch. i had to buy a stamp to mail a letter and recharge my phone card before the weekend. i knew i wouldn't have any time to do so after lunch and i wasn't sure if that branch was open on saturdays so i wasn't leaving until i'd finished my tasks.

here's my biggest beef about the post office: the lines. most of the time (in the states, my only point of reference), there are three or four tellers and one long line and customers are served when it is their turn. here, there may as well be three seperate post offices because each line is separate from the others. more times than not i end up choosing the wrong line and watch people come in after me get served before me in one of the two other lines.

this has been the biggest thing for me to get used to living here. i, as an american, somehow feel entitled to fairness in line-waiting. i'm fully admitting that. on top of this, patience is my weakest virtue. i'm working on it, though. i try to take deep breaths and tell myself that five more minutes in the wrong line is not going to kill me or bring me five minutes closer to death. i try to tune out the terrible post office music and focus on my own zone of solace and detachment.

this was not working last friday. the post office was packed. people were waiting outside it was so crowded. i was behind a severly ugly woman and her extraordinarily bratty kid. have you seen that terrible 80s movie "problem child" with john ritter? that might give you a clue. the kid-- he was probably about 3 years old, was running and weaving through everyone's legs, poking a dog in the face, hitting another baby in a stroller and screaming the whole time. in the meantime, ugly mom (her eyes were on the sides of her head, no joke) kept screaming after her kid-- for which he couldn't care less. there were three huge long lines and i was three people back from being helped. i was in the wrong line. ugly mom finally caught the kid by teh arm and wrenched him up, prompting him to scream some more, this time at my ear level. my line was not budging. i watched with a building rage as the other two good lines accomodated a steady stream of patrons coming in and out. my line still had not moved. i waited without moving for 15 minutes, an eternity in the post office. i tried finding the zone. i tried detaching, deep breathing. i tried sending messages of evil to this screeching child in front of me. nothing was working. i switched lines.

i ended up leaving at the same time as ugly mom, but i still sent her kid evil mind messages the whole time.