(Today at the Post Office)
Dotty: May I help you (In a sad, deep, sullen voice)
Me: Media Mail to Pleasant Grove please.
~Dotty sulkily typing~
Me: So, how are you doing?
Dotty: You are the first to ask all day. No good, not good at all.
Me: I am sorry to hear that. (limiting my response as to keep the conversation under control and Dotty tamed)
Dotty: I have been sick ALL day and no one seems to care, but I just sit here and work through it.
~Dotty pauses, looks up, and coughs~
Me: . . .
. . .
uh, are you contagious?
Dotty: No, its just all the medications they have me on now.
Me: . . . Oh.
Dotty: And well, you know, the disease. . .
. . .
~uncomfortable silence and eye contact~
. . .
Me: Well, yeah sorry about that . . . Media Mail please.
~END CONVERSATION~
Despite popular opinion, I am not a priest and I illicit NO confession.
3 comments:
See... in working 5 years at a doctors office I've learned never to ask someone how they are (unless they ask me first) because they never reply with, "great, thank you! And you?" I have experienced many Dottys. Never at the post office, though. Therefore I give you my sympathy and also my gratitude that it wasn't me.
Awkward!!
Never talk to people who work for the U.S.Postal service. It never turns out well.
you asked for it....
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