I may need a new post office

Having a business that I more or less run out of my home, means that I’m running to the post office frequently for stamps, or to ship orders out to people.  That means that the guy (ironically named “Guy”) that works behind the desk has become familiar with my face. Usually there is a big line behind me and I don’t ever get to have small small talk with him without feeling the razor gaze of the poor person behind me that wishes I would hurry the hell up. The extent of our conversation up to this point was my assurances that there was no liquids, fragile or hazardous materials in my packages, and that I would like the “love or celebration stamps, please.”   Yesterday, about an hour before they closed,  I ran over to ship 5 padded envelopes to ship from my last party. This time the post office was miraculously empty, and I said something to Guy about seeing me often to which he responded, “What do you sell anyways?”…

Enter awkward silence for a moment. Not that I’m not embarrassed in any way about what I sell, or what I do, Latino men in their mid-50's aren’t exactly my target audience, so I go for broke and say, “sex toys more or less. I’m a consultant with Slumber Parties so I sell sex toys, but also lotions and candles and such. Most of these are candles and lotions.”  I think he may have swallowed his tongue at this point, and eye contact is now in short supply.  He picks up a package, squeezes it and says “well…I know what’s in here!” I think for a second, actually trying to remember what had been put in that package, and respond, “Actually that’s just a packing bubble to even out the package. All that is in there is a candle, good try though.”  He makes a noise in his throat that I interpreted to mean, “yeah right, I know you’re shipping dildos, but whatever!”  Our conversation more or less stops at this point as someone else comes into the room. 

So, now my postman will be feeling up my packages and trying to guess what’s in them, and very obviously laughing his ass off at me after I leave. I think that I may actually have made his afternoon. I’ll give him my business card next time I’m in there, see how he reacts. That will be amusing. Either that…or find a new post office.