I had a vastly different experience the other day at the Post Office. It was Saturday, and about ten past noon when I went in and got in the long line. In front of me was a little old lady, who turned and said "I'm so glad they were open! What time do they close on Saturday?" "One o'clock," I told her, and we're 'safe' now - if they let us in the door, we're sure to get our items mailed.

Behind me, a guy came in with two big boxes, and quickly another woman was in line behind him. She said to him, "You know, you could put those down, so your arms don't get tired!" He then put them on the floor saying, "Yeah, they're not heavy, just awkward, and we all adjusted the line to allow his boxes room, no problem.

A few moments later, the woman in front of me half turned and said "I just wish I could get the forms and stuff I need nefore I got to the head of line, I hate taking peoples' time there."

"You can," I said, and pointed to the spot a couple feet away from us where there were bins of forms. She said "Oh, thank you," got out of line by a few inches and picked up a form.

"Is this the Customs form?" she asked me, continuing "I've got to get my glasses on. I've got to mail these to my nephews in England."

"No," I said, and got completely out of line, asked how many she needed, and got them for her. After all, I know the customs form well - I have participated in Pet Talk gift swaps to foreign lands!

When I went to get back to my spot in line, she had swapped places, so I would be in front of her. I tried to demur, but she insisted. Then she asked if they'd have Tyvek envelopes up front, and I pointed to where they were, and helped her choose the right (International) ones.

We were still going to let her back into her place, but she moved to the side to fill out all her paperwork.

Everyone was friendly, we ha nice conversation, and the line moved pretty quickly, considering the volume. At one point, I mentioned to the guy behind me "I am only here because I cannot count - I didn't buy enough "International" stamps, I just need ONE more."

He misunderstood, and said "All this time in line for one stamp? And pulled a book of 39-cent stamps out and said "Here, take one!" I explained I needed a higher denomination, but thanked him anyway.

And the postal workers were friendly and efficient. And I even got to explain to the woman two behind me that no, she didn't see "that old man" behind the counter, because Nathan - Mr. Butner ("Oh, yes, that's his name!" she exclaimed) had retired this summer.

It was, in all, an unexpectedly pleasant experience.

(No postal workers paid me to write this.)