Same Shit

I hate going to the post office. Not for reasons that many others have previously covered. The people who actually help me at the post office are very friendly and I enjoy seeing them. Because the post office is located in a federal building I hate the process I have to go through in order to get inside. As soon as I hit the door I get into a mindset that's most people use when they're going to the dentist. Just get through it as quickly and painlessly as you can.

What's waiting for me about 20 feet from the front door of the building is a security checkpoint. Now I can understand why they have a checkpoint at the entrance at a federal building. Oklahoma City and all that. That's fine. My problem is with who they choose to staff it with. Now you would think that with it being a federal building there would be Marshalls or Homeland Security or something. The "something" waiting for you is not at all a recognized authoritarian force. In fact, they're a private security firm made up of what I can only assume are those waiting to be real police and those who can't get into the real police. Rent-a-cops. But it gets scarier. They may not be deputized BUT they're allowed to have pistols. You can only imagine the level of asshole I'm dealing with now. Rinky dink badge, side arm and a "respect my authority" attitude. All of this just means I'm not going to respect these goofs. In fact, I refuse to speak to them. I'll nod in the affirmative but I try to avoid saying anything to them. I know what they are and what they want. Some moron who thinks I should respect him because he's "protecting the national interest" by telling 45 year old men they can't bring a pen knife on federal property. That doesn't cut it for me. They did nothing to get into a position of power so they can stick that piece of tin up their ass for all I care.

The worst of these Paul Blart types is a mouthbreather who looks like Stinky Peterson from Hey Arnold. It wouldn't surprise me if that was actually what this guy's home life is like. Every time I set foot inside I scan to see if he's working because it's honestly adding insult to injury when dealing with him. Knowing that the next post office is over 3 miles away just cements the sense of misery because I remember that I'm now forced to deal with this asshole. Ever since I got back on my feet he has tried to coax me into becoming his chum. I don't care how often you see me, we're not going to be friends because of circumstance. About 3 or 4 weeks ago I was engaged in this conversation.

Moron - "How ya doing today, buddy?"
Me - "Same shit."
Moron - "Ya know, one of these days you're gonna surprise me and I'm gonna ask that and you're gonna say, 'I'm Fantastic!' Haha"
Me - "The day I say that is the day that I don't have to come to this fucking building anymore."
Moron - (awkward and confused smile)

Now ever since that day I'm greeted with, "Same answer? Heh heh". I just nod and wait for my items to be cleared.