Location: Bushwick Post Office
Weather: Abnormally warm and sunny
Mood: Same as above
In order to facilitate my writing of a graphic novel, I ordered a few books from Amazon.com, but the package was too large to fit through the mail slot at home, meaning I had to venture to the post office to pick it up.
I don't like my post office. There's always a line of people, most of them are very vocal about complaining, but I can throw in my earbuds and wait with musical aplomb. Today, however, one woman came in exceptionally upset because the postal worker who delivers her mail only delivers the odd side of the street when her disability check is cut meaning it takes her an extra day to get her money. Apparently she comes to the post office every month to, "raise sand to get her money."
Today, she went from ringing the bell and asking to see a supervisor to jangling her keys in the metal tray and yelling for someone to see her to verbally assaulting the postal workers and saying she wished she had a smoke bomb to throw through the window, capping it off by saying she wanted to find a door to the back so she could kick it down and spit in all their dumb faces because it's the moat disgusting thing you can do.
Though tempted to stay and watch the police come for her, but I decided it was more important to get to work...
