I went to the post office the other day to get some stamps. Our local post office is the main office for the area, and it’s where all the local letters are sorted and sent out for delivery. Nevertheless, it’s a tiny place, with only one woman serving customers.
I buzzed at the door (don’t know why, but you have to ring the bell and then they let you in). Surprisingly, there were no other customers so I missed the usual opportunity to play the “how do I decide who’s next to be served when no one will form any recognisable queue” game.
The post-lady passed over a sheet of 10 stamps with a broad grin. “What’s this?” I said, staring at the large, dark-brown stamps, “It looks like chocolate.”
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