I had to go to the post office to send a rather large package to California. As I walked up to the door with it, a kind gentleman who worked there opened up the doors for me and said, “Let me get that for you miss,” and carried my package up to the front desk as well. These are the kinds of things I can get used to.
Now last time I was at the post office, working behind the main counter was a man. He gave me free tape, a free label and took care of everything. Again, these are the kinds of things I can get used to.
Unfortunately, the counter clerk this day was a woman.
“Ah crap,” I thought to myself.
“Hi! I need to send this to Cali,” I said to her.
“I need a zip code,” she replied.
I gave it to her and she looked up the costs and gave me my options. I took the cheapest one of course.
Then she says to me, “Before I can send it, you’ll need to tape it up and put a label on it. We sell those right over there,” and pointed to the wall behind me.
“Oh ok. Thank you,” I said as I secretly thought, “Damnit! I knew it!”
I get the tape and the label. I wrap the box up securely and place the label upon it. Then I take it back to the counter.
She scans my purchases first then we go through the whole shipping choice thing once more. Again, I took the cheapest one of course.
“Will this be cash, debit or credit?” She asks.
Now this is the part I dread in life. I couldn’t use the debit because even the cheapest shipping for that heavy package wasn’t cheap at all. The money won’t transfer from PayPal till Monday probably, so I had to use the credit card and to use a credit card, you have to show ID. For people like me, this is not a pleasant moment. It’s something that, personally, I’d rather walk through fire then show my ID to anyone.
“Credit,” I say begrudgingly.
“Ok,” she replies, “I just need some ID.”
I dig through my purse, take out my wallet, and remove both my CC and my ID.
As I hand them to the clerk I tell her, “That really is me. A lot has changed since then.” By now some people are in line behind me and I’m trying to be as discreet as possible.
She looks at the license. Then she looks at me. Then she looks at the license again. Then back to me, smiles and says, “You’re very pretty!”
“Thank you,” I say blushing and completely taken off guard.
She gave my license another look and says, “seriously, I’m jealous.”
We laugh, she rings me up, I sign, she gives me one last compliment I honestly only half understood and then we smiled and said goodbye to one another like friends waving and all.
When I left the post office, I felt a spring in my step and all it cost was a roll of tape and a small label. What I got for those two insignificant things was priceless.
– Charlize <3
Cover image credit: Hamed Ehsani (Pinterest)