I had to run to the post office, which is always a great time. There was a line (surprise) full of old women and non-English speakers. Oh, and the A/C was off or broken, so the smell was great. One old lady in front of me had sat in what appeared to be cat shit. To top it off, only one man was working and the lady in line, who was at least 112, was writing a check for stamps, which one can buy anywhere in the country. Especially at the automatic stamp machine, which was without a line and six feet behind me. I hate this place.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I heard a middle aged lady on her cell phone. I would say she was engaged in a conversation, but that’s assuming the other person could actually speak, because she was nearly screaming into the phone and not stopping long enough to elicit a response. “It’s hot in here! It’s like a sauna! Why is it so hot in here? I think the A/C is off! Man, this is warm!” Thanks, no one else noticed until you said something, stupid. Plus, we got it after the first two references you made to the heat. I actually wish it was hotter, then you might leave or die or something more pleasant than piercing my ears with your general and dull observations.
This went on for fifteen minutes, the topic being her son/hatchling picking out a dorm. She made sure the person on the other line, and by default us, knew he was an honor student. In case it wasn’t clear, she mentioned it about seven times. As I was leaving (I paid cash – pay attention Granny), I heard her put down the phone and ask the one, sweaty and almost lifeless worker why it was so hot in there. He looked at her and said, “A/C quit.” “Are they going to fix it?” He stared at her for five seconds, rage building, and said, “Can I help you?” I walked out, but I like to think he did something cool, like flag her mail as full of explosives. Or filled it with explosives and marked return to sender.