To the huffy man at the post office
When you go to the post office a certain amount of abuse and neglect is
expected. The lines are long, the employees few.
You cussing loudly on your cell phone was a particular delight. Your
inability to call 411 was charming, the failure of your 1999-era cell
phone and wired-in earpiece was inspired.
Thank you for making our shared time in line just fly right by.