I go to my local post office at least once a week, sometimes more, to mail manuscripts I've critiqued or edited. So, I see the same postal workers nearly every time I go in. One of them is a man, maybe 55 years old, who is slower at processing customers than molasses in the middle of a January snowstorm. But once people seem to get to know him, they are accepting of him.
He sings showtunes and golden oldies and he asks customers trivia questions while he tends to their postal needs. During this past Christmas season, I stopped in and he was singing "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire," which added to the Christmas spirit.
Yesterday he asked a woman, "What state has the most private golf courses?" At first, she snapped her head back as if to say, "Why in the world are you asking me this question?" Then she smiled and said, "I don't know" before venturing a guess that I couldn't hear. Unfortunately, I couldn't hear the answer either. I really wanted to know.
After the trivia question customer was taken care of, the postal worker began to sing "I dream of Jeannie," but it wasn't from the television show, at least I don't think it was (because that theme song didn't have lyrics, did it?) The song he sang is an old song I'd heard before, but I have no idea what the rest of the words are or who originally sang it. I only know that the customer who was standing at the counter looked at the guy as if he'd flipped and I almost burst out laughing. I bet the customer had a nice laugh about it later.
I love little slices of life like these. They make forgettable moments memorable.
