I have to go to the Post Office. If I don’t come back, I probably fell into the time-dilation field that makes P.O. employees mooooove soooooo sloooooowlyyyyy. Send Dr. Carter to rescue me. (Have I mentioned lately that she’s older than I am?)
Our PO seems to be controlled by two very efficient, over-worked women and one cranky SOB with a mullet.
I try to do all my mailing business at the machines in the lobby, not necessarily to avoid the lines, but to avoid the Mullet Man. He needs an attitude adjustment.