rekkidblogga

A stamp, a book, what?

While mailing a package to my friend Michelle in Brooklyn this morning at the local Post Office, I tried somewhat in vain to help an Asian lady figure out the quickest, easiest way to buy five stamps to mail letters home to her family. She spoke broken English and by the time I had explained that she didn't have to stand in the long line - there was a machine accepting dollar bills and $2 would buy her the five stamps she needed - she'd changed her mind and opted to just buy a book. "I send lot letters home," she said, smiling, as I let her back in line in front of me. It was no big deal.

When the clerk, who's worked there forever and is usually pretty nice to me and the other customers, called her to the window, she asked the Asian lady "Do you need a stamp, a book, what?" in kind of a terse way. The man who'd been ahead of the lady in line, now one window over, told the clerk politely and in an even tone of voice, "She needs a book." The clerk finished the transaction, handed the lady her book and the lady smiled, thanking me first and the man next on her way out, genuinely appreciative for all of our help (however minor).

The clerk was more than helpful when I asked her how I could send care packages overseas to Iraq as part of the My Soldier program I signed up for online. She gave me a customs slip, explained the process, what not to send - pretty much everything I'd need to know.

But then again, I wasn't trying to buy a book of stamps. In broken English.

posted by rekkidbraka @ 11:02 PM