Last week I needed to mail an oversized envelope so I dropped in to a neighboring town’s post office because it was on my way home from somewhere else. I know this post office always had a line but it’s well staffed and the line usually moves pretty fast. Plus I had nothing pressing for the rest of the afternoon, and I was driving right by it. So what the heck, right?

As expected, once inside I found a long line. I think I was number 6 or 7. There was only one person working the counter, and another person working over to the side under a sign that indicated he was the passport guy.

Each person going up to the counter seemed to have a long transaction, but the guy working in passports was waiting on people out of the front of the line so it was still moving, though more slowly than I expected. More people were coming in behind me, though, and soon the line was almost to the exit door.

Then a woman came in, walked past all of us, up to another door near the counter and rang a doorbell. I wondered what that was all about. 

The guy at the passport counter stopped what he was doing for a customer, saying, “excuse me, that’s the back door I need to go open it.” As he approached the front of the room the woman there, holding a notice of some sort, stepped out and told him she was there to pick up her mail. He looked startled. ”So it wasn’t the back door bell I heard?” ”No she said, it was me. I just want to pick up my mail.”

Now the man is flustered because there’s a long line of people, he has a customer waiting and she just wants to pick up her mail? But, being a nice guy, he goes in back and gets it for her while we all wait. As he hands it off she says “That’s not all of it. There are supposed to be three packages.” ”No, he says, there’s only the one.” ”There are supposed to be three.” ”There was only the one back there.”

People in line are beginning to sigh loudly.

Finally she leaves, and he goes back to his customer, apologizing for the wait. The clerk at the front desk meanwhile has been taking care of a woman with 15 large envelopes, all of which must be weighed and that she has to confirm the addresses by pushing a button on a little machine. The clerk has to remind her to do that on every single one because she’s busy writing addresses on the envelopes still to be weighed. 

By now I am only 2 people back. 

The passport guy now has two customers, the one he was trying to help from our line and someone who has come back with documents he had previously requested. He’s trying to help both. He won’t be pulling more people from our line. The guy in front of me slumps.

Eventually Ms. 15 unprepared envelopes is finished, gets her long receipt and is told to please fill out the survey at the bottom, and the clerk smiles brightly and declares “Next!” and the guy in front of me straightens up and goes to get his stamps.

And about then another post office employee comes out from the back, maybe back from lunch or a break. Or a nap. He moves so slowly I immediately think he’s the human form of a sloth. He literally is moving like molasses across the floor. Then he has to unlock his drawer. And sign into his computer. And slowly look up….at me….and say…..”N…e…x…t.”

I started to giggle. After all the craziness I’d been watching his deliberate movements seemed to make the whole room move in slow motion. I walked over with my one envelope, trying not to laugh. He slowly moved it to the scale, asked me if I needed anything else, had me click to confirm the address and printed up the postage, applying it to the envelope, all so very slowly and without looking directly at me.

Once I got my receipt I retreated to my car where I laughed hysterically. For a long time.

I’m including a link to the Zootopia trailer which has a quick scene of some sloths that work exactly like my postal worker.

Next…

May you find something this week that makes you laugh just as hard.