I would just like to say, I love the employees at the Bloomington post offices. It doesn't matter which one, downtown or Woodbridge. They're always nice, cheerful, helpful, and ready to mail anything I want to mail. This morning I walked up to the counter with a handful of stuff and said something like, "Uh....I don't suppose you have, like, a priority mail box this would all fit in, do you?" The guy behind the counter probably hears that question 10 times an hour, and you'd think he'd roll his eyes and say, "You know, in the good old days, people wrapped up their packages *before* they left home," but he didn't. And they never do. They are always just happy people, even during Christmas or at the end of the school year when all the international students are mailing their clothes, books and living room couches home.
I really love Hoosiers. That's not a myopic observation, I'm not overlooking their politics, and I steer well clear of "Redneck Corner" in the Ivy Tech parking lot. I know there are a lot of problems here. But, wow, it is so nice to have the Hoosier-y ladies check out your groceries, or take your tuition check, or ring up your meal ticket. Diane hates them, she thinks they need to get over calling everyone "honey," "sweetie," or "dear," but I find their warmth a reliable tonic for depression. They're not patronizing, they're not exactly sexist, they're just being motherly and taking care of you, and that's fine with me.
Wednesday, October 09, 2002
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