Tales from My Lunch Hour

The other day I needed to run some errands at lunch so I could hurry up and get home after work. I was leaving work early that day because we were driving up to Tampa for a dinner and I was a little short on time. My plan was to fill up the car with gas, pick up a sandwich at Subway, and swing by the post office to mail a package and buy stamps.

During the course of my errands, I ran into a few interesting individuals.

At the gas station, a young man pulled up across from me, he filled up with $5 worth of gas, and then drove off. As I watched him drive away, I wondered how far he thought he was going to get when gas costs $4 per gallon.

From the gas station I went to Subway. I’m not really a fan of Subway but I really like their sweet tea and it was convenient. However, the woman in line ahead of me was so demanding and picky that she held up the process. This woman ordered a salad and kept on insisting on more toppings. Every time the “sandwich artist” added more cheese the woman insisted “more, more” so the girl behind the counter added another handful. The salad now resembled an uncooked cheese casserole with some lettuce. Then at the register the woman interrogated the cashier about the iced tea and the cookies.

“Is the tea fresh? Are you sure it was brewed this morning? Do you have any cookies with cranberries? Those are my favorite. Why don’t you have any with cranberries? The white chocolate cookies don’t look like they were baked long enough. I would get the white chocolate cookie IF they had been baked properly. I guess I’ll take a raisin cookie.”

Finally, I paid for my meal and got my coveted sweet tea.

Next stop, the rural post office that is almost empty even at lunch time. But as luck would have it that day there was a long line and none of the transactions were easy ones. The customer at the counter was a woman who wanted to buy a $1,000 money order. The last time she bought a postal money order the fee was $1.50. She had exact change with her. What she didn’t realize was that the fee went up to $1.55. She stood at the counter not comprehending that even though she had $1,000 cash in her hand, she was 5 cents short to make her purchase. No matter how many times the clerk behind the counter explained the price increase, the customer didn’t understand. It also didn’t matter how high in volume the clerk raised her voice, the customer still didn’t understand. The solution was easy as I leaned forward and said, “Here’s a nickel.”

The other big hold-up at the post office was the man trying to mail a CHAINSAW to AFRICA. The same clerk told the man that it fit within the size requirements. But the clerk who was assisting me kept telling the first clerk that she needed to check the international shipping regulations because she really didn’t think a chainsaw was allowed. Seriously, if you’re shipping something like that overseas, wouldn’t a freight company make more sense? I paid for my stamps and headed for the door as the chainsaw discussion really heated up.

All of that took so long that I ended up eating my now soggy sandwich at my desk. Oh well, at least my lunch hour was entertaining.