December 18, 2013 Article

The Old Coot holds up the line at the post office.

“I’ve got an article for you,” a woman who works in the County Office yelled to me in line at Dunkin Donuts the other day. “You should write about the retired people who clog the aisles at the post office and the bank on our lunch hour.” I shouldn’t mention her name because the people I’m going to rile up with this article might want to retaliate. It’s Cindy! So, if you must protest, talk to her, not me. I won’t be home anyhow; I’ll be in line at the post office. (If it’s the noon hour.)  

 She’s right. Us retired folks have all day to go to the bank or the post office. But there’s a good reason why we turn up just as workers dash there on their lunch hour. Actually, there are two reasons: Some days, it’s because we are experiencing the “early bird” syndrome. On other days, it’s because we are overcome with the “can’t make a decision” syndrome. When it’s an “early bird” day we’re out of bed at five, raring to go. We get dressed, eat breakfast and are out the door by six. Off to the diner, the coffee house or the gas station. We’re looking for human contact. By seven we’ve solved all the world’s problems and move on to our inspection duties: Where are the DOT crews setting up; is it a job that’s worth going back later to watch? - Do any of the houses on the market have sold signs on them? - Did anyone pick up the tree limb on Parker Lane? It’s quite a responsibility, but we are up to the task.

 By ten-thirty, we’re exhausted; it’s time for a nap, the first of the day. We wake [with a start] at eleven forty-five and rush to the post office to buy a stamp (we never buy more than one at a time). Then, it’s over to the bank to get change for a twenty. We don’t like paying for things with a “big” bill. Too many places run a counterfeit checking pen over them. What would we do if it turned out to be fake? Grab it and run? We’re certainly not going to surrender it and take the loss! So, we go to the bank and get it broken into smaller bills.

Then, there are the days we’re stricken with the “can’t make a decision” syndrome. We still get up early, but we don’t rush out the door. Too many decisions have to be made first. Should I get dressed and then have breakfast, or have breakfast and then get dressed? Should I have cereal or eggs? Are eggs still bad for you or is it OK to eat them again?  What’s the temperature outside? Do I need a coat” An umbrella? The list of decisions is endless. Heaven help us if we make a mistake. It takes three hours to resolve all the issues and head out the door to the post office. 

 So, there you find us, on “your” lunch hour, clogging up the line. It gets worse. “What stamp would you like,” the postal clerk asks? We don’t know; we can’t make a decision. “What are our choices,” we ask? And, look back to the crowd for their opinion when the choices are announced, like a contestant on Let’s Make a Deal. The people in line shift from one foot to the other in unison and glare at the back of our heads. But, it’s not over. The clerk has more questions: Do you need boxes? - Do you need envelopes? - Do you want insurance? - More stamps? We stumble under the barrage like a prizefighter getting pelted in the ring. Then it’s time to pay. More decisions: Give up a five-dollar bill? - Hand over a twenty and be looked at suspiciously? - Charge it? There you are in line behind us, wondering why on earth we are there on your lunch hour. Well, now you know!