Italian Post Office

awful news.  my macbook battery died.  i know, you're gasping as you read this.  i was pretty upset myself, ESPECIALLY since i just bought the damn thing not even a year ago.   so, the lovely people at mac are hooking me up with a new battery (yay!), BUT they can't send things overseas (boo.).  hence, my trip to the post office today to send my parents my dead battery.

when you enter the post office, you are confronted with a big machine with buttons, which will then dispense your number in the queue.  decisions already?  i'm screwed.  i went with the safe bet - all other inquiries (or the lose translation of..).  

normally, i'd be all revved up to be pissy and get my angry face on like everyone else in the queue...but i held my breath patiently as i pulled number 666 and the next to be called was 389. now, of course i thought i was in for some sort of danger...getting the evil number and all, but i decided to make the best of it, and take in the scene.  

no one was sitting.  sure, there are probably about 30 seats bolted to the ground awaiting a huffy customer to sit down, but i assure you half of these seats were left empty the entire time i was in the post office.  and the people sitting had their heads down either in shame for sitting when everyone else is standing, OR they were sleeping.  i did see a few talented people catching a few zzz's while standing up however.  i mean, how can i sit when there's a 91 year old man just chillin.  if he can stand, i can stand.   

then i noticed people milling about checking out other people's numbers.  i had mine in my pocket, i didn't want anyone to see my evil number.  then i noticed a woman with multiple numbers.  she must not have known which button to push - but alas, no!  she had multiple numbers for the same queue (about 100 earlier than mine, might i add) and she was giving them out to whom she pleased!  oh, well i wasn't going to play her game.  i looked away, and pretended like i was next in line...right.  

then a glorious thing happened.  a nice elderly gentleman asked me what number i was.  i showed him my ticket and he gave me one that said 557 - even better than the ones that ticket hoarder was holding!  we were obviously best friends for the rest of the time.  clearly making friends with old men is my specialty.  we chatted and bobbed on the balls of our feet stretching out our tired calves and gave each other a silent cheer when the sign hit 500.  finally, my friend's turn was up.  he looked like a kid on christmas scooting up to the window...after all, he could only scoot.  he waited 2 hours to make a 3 minute transaction.  that sounds about right.  i gave him my congratulations on his way out, and waited only a short time after for my turn.   and in closing, here's a summary of my trip.

fur-trimmed coats: 18

identical red plaid taxi driver hats: 2

number of songs i listened to on my ipod: 23

minutes waited in total: 93

success at the post office: priceless.