Went to the post office yet again today to mail Pietro his Christmas
juice. Yet again the line of dimwitted procrastinators was out the door, yet again there was no place to park the forklift and yet again everyone refused to help me roll the drum toward the lobby. (I think they all know Pietro.)
Going to leave early tomorrow afternoon to go dancing and will stand in the stupid line for a reasonable amount of time... 2 1/2 minutes is more than reasonable. (You probably ain't gonna get your
juice by Christmas there Bucky. Drink scotch, it will make the wait seem to go by quicker.)
Jack