One of my early childhood dreams was to be a mailman. I say “mailman” because when I was a kid, women were busy being housewives. We did not have “carriers”; we had “men.”

To this day, I can’t explain my attraction to this career path, but if I were to guess, it was probably all of the “hello, how ya doings?” Everyone loved to see him heading down the street.

What was not to love? He was the bearer of cards celebrating special occasions, letters from loved ones, and an occasional check. A celebrity every day.

Don’t get me started on the idle chitchat with folks on the route or an unplanned life-saving event due to mail piling up and actually noticing. I do this now for free.

We’re not going to discuss the bills; they were a given.

I was probably deterred by the rain, snow, and sleet motto, only to find out when writing this essay that it was all a LIE.

“The U.S. Postal Service has no official motto. Nope, it’s not this: “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” But we certainly appreciate the sentiment.“

US Postal Service

No doubt I heard “gloom of night” and said, “I’m out!”

Anyway, fast forward to yesterday when I went to the post office to mail a package containing a book. The book recipient informed me of a book rate that cuts the shipping cost. Who knew? Not me.

However, I was not informed then that an FBI-like interrogation went along with using this discounted rate. Folks, there is always a damn price to pay!

As always, I waited in line for the lone over-worked employee to address me.

Me: I want to mail this box at the book rate, please.

Overworked employee: Is there a book in the box?

Me: Yes

OE: Is there anything else in the box?

Me: No

OE: Is there a card in the box?

Me: No

OE: A letter?

Me: Um, no.

OE: Chocolate?

Me: There’snothing else in the box.

OE: Ok, fine. Can I get you anything else?

Me: Yes, can I get two books of Christmas stamps?

OE: Which ones?

Me: Not the religious ones, the other ones.

OE: The Elves or the Otters?

Me: One of each, please.

OE: You know they’re brown?

Me: What’sbrown?

OE: The Elves.

Me: (Looking at the stamps.) They’re Elves.

OE: Yeah, but they’re brown.

Me: Elves aren’t real.

OE: I know; I’m just saying they’re brown.

Me: So are the Otters.

I got my tracking receipt, turned around to leave, looked into the dead stares of a long line of people, and went my merry way. What in the what?

Enjoy the Ride!