He was 6’2, had hazel eyes, washboard abs, and a regular six-pack. legs that looked like a tree trunk. He wore a T-shirt that enhanced his biceps. The fabric of that shirt could not restrain his muscles. There was a smile that said, ‘Anytime.’ I was immediately hooked. I tried not to notice him as I waited in line, but of course, the line was not moving. It’s the Post Office, so getting out of there any time soon was hopeful, at best. And that is why I brought a book to read while standing in line. I looked up to see if the line was moving, and that’s when I saw him. He was heading over towards the Post Office boxes. I looked a little longer than necessary, but I couldn’t help it, he was a real ‘hottie.’ He opened up the box, took out some mail, and then locked it again. He then begins to thumb through the letters, looking for something. After he scanned each letter with those beautiful hazel eyes, he looked up. Almost as if he knew someone was watching him. His eyes immediately connected with mine, ‘oh no.’ I directly looked down at my book. He came over to where I was standing, walked up to me, and turned my book right side up. I looked at him, smiled, and mumbled, “Thanks”. He said, “No problem’ and then headed out the door. I’m not sure if I felt more relieved or embarrassed? He must have known that I was checking him out, yet not a word did he say.
Still in line a few minutes later after he exited the building. I now stood in line, not knowing what to do. After all, he looked like the kind of guy who could get any girl he wanted. Or even if he is one of those playboys. Or worse, a Gigolo. I wasn’t sure which type he was, all I knew was that he was way out of my league. A few more people were being waited on. The people who were now at the counter seemed to have all kinds of problems. There was a lady at one window asking about prices for her packages. And she wasn’t sure of the address. Another woman was asking about stamps and getting a passport. The last person was searching for a missing package. Is there not a place for those of us who want stamps? A quick and fast line for those of us who prepared? I was getting upset because this great guy saw me and walked away. Or worse yet, I let him walk away. What was I supposed to do to run after him? Say, Hey, I wasn’t checking you out, but let’s go out.” Neither of those scenarios came to mind at that moment. Sure, I’m good at coming up with those great lines, but only after he left. And so, back to reading my book.
As I looked ahead of me, the woman at the first window is an older woman in her late 40s. She must have come from work because she was wearing a navy-blue skirt set. I especially loved the pleated skirt. I wonder where she got it. Then in the next window was a woman who looked like she was in her late 20s or early 30s. She wanted to know if she could get a passport, she looked like maybe she was Mexican. Those women are usually short in stature and have long, straight black hair. I often wonder what I would look like with long, straight black hair. Anyway, the next person was an older man, and it looks like he was going to be there for a while. I’m sure he’s old, and the guy behind the counter has repeated everything to him twice. And not once has the older man reached for his wallet to pay. The things you witness in the line at the Post Office just make me wonder sometimes. I should be on my phone, but it’s dead, again. And so, I’m amazed that there is still a Post office. With emails, text messages, Zoom, and social media, the Post Office just seems outdated. I can’t imagine anyone who still sends letters or even pays bills. Except for people like the older man at the counter, I guess there are still people who use the Post Office. I might as well face it; I’m going to be here for a while.
Yea! The Mexican lady finally leaves, and another person steps up. Now it’s me and the man in front of me. He’s been very quiet this whole time, probably on his phone. The man in the back of me has been talking ever since he got in line. I immediately took out my book to read. First, I played with my phone until it died a quick death. So, then I put it away and got my book out. I was interested in starting a conversation with anyone, except that cute guy that came and went. Next, the lady dressed in a navy-blue skirt set and nude pumps walks away and out the door. The man in front of me immediately steps up to the counter. My heart starts to beat faster, and faster. With one thought, ‘I’m next, I’m next.’ I’ve never been so excited to be next at the Post Office. I must admit I was anxious to see if I could find that guy, although too much time has passed by. Then the older man starts to reach for his wallet, he’s about to leave. And then the man behind the counter puts up a sign, ‘closed.’ You've got to be kidding me,” I said out loud with frustration. The man behind me spoke up quickly, saying, “Yep, that’s the way of the Post Office. It’s a miracle anyone ever gets anything done. Am I right?” I shook my head in agreement. I kept thinking, I’ll never get out of here any time soon.
I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer. Now let me tell you, I’m not a religious person. But the only way to make it out of the Post Office was an act of God. I stood at the front of the line, waiting. But the next thing I saw was an actual miracle. I turned to get my money out of my pants pocket so I could be ready. The sign had been moved where the older man was, and the man had his back turned to get things set up. I stepped up to the counter as he turned around, it was him, Mr. Hottie.
He turned around, looked me in the eye, and said, “How may I help you? Not reading upside down, I see.” I stood there speechless, not knowing how to respond. The man behind me spoke out loud, “Hey you two, don’t forget the rest of us are still waiting. Go for coffee or something.” Then the other people in line laughed. I looked back and smiled once again, embarrassed. I remembered what I came to the Post Office for, “Yes, I need a book of forever stamps and two money orders for $20 each, please.” I tried to maintain some kind of dignity. I stood by and watched as the cute guy took care of all my needs. He worked quickly and very professionally.
He was now wearing the Post Office uniform, his biceps well hidden from view. But those hazel eyes still sparkled every time he looked at me, and smiled. I remained silent, just waiting for him to finish. I wasn’t one of those forward women, I had spent too much time thinking about him in the first place. “That will be $50 in total. Anything I can do for you?” How the mind wonders, from what he had just asked me. But I replied very professionally, “No thanks, this is it.” I gave him $60 and waited for change. He counted out my change as he placed it gently in my hand. He leaned forward and said in almost a whisper, “If you find yourself over near here in about four hours, I get off. I know a nice little coffee shop around the corner, Starbucks. You can even bring your book.” I said, “Thank you, I will,” and headed towards the door. As I took a quick glance back, the man who had been behind me was now at the counter. I looked back and the cute guy was holding up four fingers and winking at me. So, I shook my head in agreement.
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