I was riding my bike to the post office to mail a letter for my mom as I had done a million times before in my childhood. As I rode the familiar path, I remember telling myself, “If I told myself I would still be doing this in my 40s I would never believe it.”
Things had changed since my childhood and I ended up going too far. I turned around trying to remember where the building was. I drove through a small parking lot that at one time was a Piggly Wigly back in the 70s and nearly got run over by two cars.
I finally turned into the post office parking lot and leaned my bike up against the window. The place had been remodeled and I wasn’t sure if I would be able to see my bike from inside to keep an eye on it. It turned out that I would only be a few steps away from the glass.
I saw multiple slots on the wall labeled everything except what you would expect for plain old mail. I asked the people there which slot I use for regular mail. A woman behind the glass was animatedly telling me which slot but there was no opening in the glass to talk through so I could not hear a word she was saying.
As I waited in line, I noticed that the envelope was not sealed properly. I licked it and tried to reseal but ended up tearing it. I started to reseal it with scotch tape as people kept cutting in front of me. I noticed that the vertical blinds on the front windows were now closed. I couldn’t see my bike anymore.
I finally asked the lady in front of me where I can just mail a letter. One of the employees heard my questing and started to tell me but was not making any sense. I finally decided to go ride down the street in search of a mailbox.
I walked outside and found my bike to be gone. Stolen! Bastards!
I went back into the Post Office and started yelling about how they could not have a place to lock up your bike while you stood in line for 30 minutes! I was pissed off!
I woke up feeling very unpleasant.