Not long ago I enjoyed a nice story in a nice collection of stories by the nicely first named and no opinion really on the last named Lucy Thomas (who you’d be suspicious about after reading her biography: “Injuries incurred while installing drywall forced her into semi-retirement. She is now recuperating in Newfoundland, while studying shipbuilding”) The shipbuilder wrote, then, about post office clerks having a good time at work. They could lay sweet waste to the time. I was happy to witness my own good post office scene in Brooklyn. Mitzie was the clerk helping me out. Nicely named. I wanted stamps. Good looking, non-boring-American flag stamps and in the lobby machine they had some nice, and therefore sold-out, versions which I was now attempting to buy at the counter. Crops. Crops of vegetables. Nicely rendered vegetables on an off-white background. Real specimens, ya know?. She pushed out a book of the American Flags and I balked and pleaded about the Crops. Crops? she asked. We got “crap”(saying it “crop”) but we ain’t got “crop”. Her co-worker cackled, relishing the fun as much as I did and the 3 of us anted up good portions of laughter to the collective pot of energy. Humor while on government time/duty has a nice conspiratorial bent to it. In the end, I chose some bird stamps.
Coney Island is fun too. If you forget it is, the graphics will playfully insist.