Overheard Department

I get my mail at a post office box which was relocated from its long-time location on a slightly inconvenient side-street to one of the local malls. There are many times when I believe I would prefer the inconvenience of the side-street to the extremely inconvenient local mall. There are six parking spots allotted for the post office, clearly marked. As these spots are the closest to the nearest mall entrance most folks un-learn how to read when they are looking for a parking spot in the always crowded mall lot. Most of the times I pop in to pick up my mail from the spot I found three miles away because the lot is empty, there is no one patronizing the post office. 

I of course do not have the you-know-whats to say anything to the people who are strolling out to their post-office-parking-only parked cars, arms laden with bags not marked "U.S. Post Office" as I stumble by exhausted from my walk to pick up my mail.

On this occasion I was spared the walk because my darling husband was driving. He gave a brief thought to waiting in the no parking zone for me as I picked up my mail, a less than two minute errand, but a mall security guard was leaning against an outside wall smoking a cigarette. I wanted to tell him not to worry as they never seem to care that non-post-office patrons fill the spots on a regular basis, but he likes to obey laws.

As I approached the post office door I heard the security guard say to a co-worker previously hidden behind a pillar "So, are you worried about the visit from the big boss tomorrow?"

The other man expelled his inhaled smoke and replied, "Naw, I'm higher up than he is."

His co-worker replied, "Really? How so?"

"I've been working here longer."

"Huh." Silence for a second. "I don't think it works that way."

As I entered the post office I wished for one quick second that I'd heard the end of that conversation.

Just curious.

No, really.