This morning I drove to go to the post office to mail a package. I knew it would be busy there because of the postal holiday yesterday, but wasn’t ready what greeted me. A long line of customers snaked all across the customer area, through double glass doors and into the lobby of the amply sized regional branch. Eleven people were ahead of me, most of whom were holding packages to mail. One person was propping open the door to provide continuity to the line. No one was interacting with anyone else, including the postal clerks.
When I arrived, two clerks were on duty. I felt
grateful that there were two, that it wasn't break-time. I watched the line ahead of me shrink to
ten, nine, eight people. Several customers came in, took a look around, and
left with visible annoyance. But then one of the clerks put a “closed” sign on his window and left. Slower
. . . slower the line moved . . . but I was finally inside the customer area. I
looked back into the lobby and realized the line was adding people faster than the clerk was servicing them.

“Will that be all today?," she asked everyone. "Stamps? Gift cards?” (My
post office sells gift cards from Sears, JC Penney, Apple, Olive Garden, etc.,
as well as the standard packing materials.)
I found myself wondering who would
intentionally shop at the post office. All the gift cards and greeting cards
must be impulse items while one waits in line. And waits. And waits.
“This is why a monopoly is bad,” I muttered to the man behind me.
"At least it's not Christmas-time," he replied knowingly. Several people in line rolled their eyes as they heard his comment.By the time it was my turn, sixteen people were
waiting behind me. Still only one clerk.
For a postal clerk, there is no need to hurry, no reason to make eye contact,
or offer a friendly, “I’ll be with you shortly.” We put up with their poor service because we have to. The clerks do their work, almost like robots--at least, in Bothell they do.

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