Post Office Insecurity

Dating Matt has allowed me the opportunity to become more intimate with the US Postal Service.  Before him I may have assumed APO was just the more hip and progressive way to say UFO. When he's not deployed I'm less attentive and nurturing to my relationship with the US mail system.  However, I like to keep it on the line, so I dip in every so often for stamps.  Tonight I thought I'd launch a surprise visit and pick up a flat rate box so that I could mail some Christmas presents to Matt. Sadly, I only saw medium and small sized ones in the lobby, which forced me to stand in line among heavy sighing and box bumping.  Although the box bumping didn't appear as intentional as the sighing, as an athlete, I was able to recognize these silver foxes real intent.  They were using their packages as a positioning mechanism to instigate line superiority.  I simply widened my stance and held my ground.  No budging prevailed, and they waited their turn.  When it was finally my turn, I looked to my newest friend "Shelly" for some assistance.  I asked her for a large flat rate box, and was blindsided by how much self doubt this question slapped me with.  First, she asked if I was sure I checked the lobby.  It felt like when mom would ask me if I was sure I had picked up the dog poop after taking it out.  The one eyed squint and head tilt clearly showed they lack confidence in your abilities.  The only difference was this time I wasn't lying when I said yes.  Still I felt nervous I hadn't tried hard enough.  Then, she handed me this:

As I thanked her and walked away I noticed it was already addressed to a Mickie Keck in Germany.  I asked Shelly if I could have a new one which produced various reactions and worries:

By tiptoeing (literally, I thought it would appear more apologetic to those in line, and frankly I felt a little fancy after my 24oz. coffee) I somehow further enraged the crowd.  The sighing was now accompanied by eye rolling and pursed lips by one broad.  Yes.  I said broad.  Her reaction didn't warrant the title of lady. 

Then, as I walked away my heart dropped.  By returning this already addressed box, did I look like the Grinch?  Was this Mickie from Germany running her own adult version of "Toys for Tots?"  Perhaps she was cutting out the middle man and directly asking strangers for gift donations.  Now I'm the tight wade who called her out in front of all these strangers. If this was the case, all I could think was Santa karma.  Another year without that trampoline and Barbie battery powered Jeep I keep asking for :(

Finally, what if this Mickie's identity gets stolen at some point?  People clearly saw her name and address in my hands.  A handful may have seen me snap a picture, and my hair no longer matches my driver's license.  The recent dye job, and whole Catholic teacher claim just looks like a clever rouse.   

So, if these presents don't jingle Matt's bell, then I plan on taking them back and sending them to Mickie.  Mainly to eliminate the appearance of identity theft, but also to spread a little Christmas cheer.