If you work a retail window, are a small-town Postmaster, or deliver mail, you have all kinds of customers.Since we deliver to everyone, we get the full pie of Americana. Some customers we rarely see -- putting mail in a box at the end of the cul-de-sac. Others meet us every day. We all have our favorites.
My favorite was Ebenezer Snell. He owned the farm down the road and still had time to work his way to my office every day. He couldn't quite get over the whole split with England -- he still loved his crumpets and was upset that the price had gone up.
But he loved getting his mail, especially when his Victor's Secret catalog of fashionable wigs for men came in.
And his son, Jebediah, who was selling stoves in Virginia would occassionally write, which would send Ebenezer into a cackle about his son "the smoke peddler."
He also spoke lovingly about his Great Dane, named "Princess" and his herd of goats that always find their way into the town square.
4 comments:
My favorite was a mirco marine biologist. He looked like a mad scientist and after talking to him you could tell he was probably brilliant. He lived in the middle of wheat fields and received marine samples from all over the world and he traveled to Hawaii a couple of times a year to teach at a university. He once told me that you could pick up a handful of sand in Hawaii and there would surely be a new species in it. When I went there last year I held up a handful of sand...and felt like a scientist. Amazing man he.
I have a lady who comes from a different town to buy her stamps from me. She is a collector and I always make sure I have the stamps she wants when she comes. She will always call before she comes to make sure I am working and will always ask if I need her to bring me anything (of course my answer is always "No, Thank You.")It is the highlight of my month to see her and get to visit her for a few minutes! She is always happy and never has anything bad to say. I do love dealing with the public and have A LOT of great customers but I look forward to seeing her the most!
I am convinced that my post office is in a town with a hidden fountain of youth. I have 5-6 gentlemen who come in every day to chew the fat and pick up their mail. The youngest is 75, the oldest? 97!
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