Best Story of the Week

I love mailing things.  One could call me, Queen of the Mail, I’m so often schelpping to the post office.

So today, I’m there with a package I worked on neurotically all morning like it was being entered in a contest, my biggest worry, it will somehow open in flight.

Cut to…Gracie Square Post Office – 85th and Third.

I stand in line like a pack mule, my parcel obscuring my face preventing me from seeing, I’m next.

Suddenly there’s a collective roar…HEY LADY…YOU’RE NEXT!!!

So I amble up to Greg, who I’ve known forever, a cute, nice what my pal Camille likes to call, meat and potatos man, who welcomes me like a relative.

“Hey, yo…where ya been?  It’s been what, an houa since you been hea?” His dimples playfully dancing.

I smile, ask after his kids before handing him the Moby Dick of packages.

“Greg, listen…

“Don’t tell me, youse warried it’s gonna open?”

I give him my best demure thin girl smile before saying, “Well, yes.”

“Dalin, youse got enough tape on there, Hou-deeeni couldn’t freak’in open it,” as he puts on another hefty strip.


About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Thanks.
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25 Responses to Best Story of the Week

  1. Hira says:

    Isn’t it wonderful when the other person spits out your worry before you could do that hesitatingly?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. micklively says:

    Duct tape is incredibly strong. Try testing it. You need to have a little more faith in your packing abilities.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. skinnyuz2b says:

    Susannah, I love to mail personal packages, too. Our little local post office used to have a good guy and a bad guy. If the good guy was there, he bent over backwards to be friendly and helpful. If the bad guy (who was also the top dog) was there, you were lucky to be acknowledged. I once asked Mr. Bad for extra tape since I ran out before I was satisfied my package was secure. He replied that it wasn’t his job to wrap my package! I’m happy to report he is now retired.

    Liked by 1 person

    • There’s a horde of baddies at my post office too. The women of color are the worst, but there’s also fat Italian Joanne who’d rather stab you than help. It’s who you know Skinny, even at the post office. 🙂


  4. LOL … hilarious, Susannah. The accent is palpable. Some people say I sound like I’m
    from New York when they meet me for the 1st time. I like to think 27 years in Florida that it’s lightened up. But, sadly, no. You gotta love a New Yorker. You know what I mean. 😁
    Have a nice weekend.
    Isadora 😎


    • He’s the poster boy to be sure. Salt of the earth as I’m sure you are. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      • Ironically, when you spoke of those boys in uniform in your other post, I thought of me standing in my plaid skirt, saddle shoes and proper button down sweater but still wielding my New York accent. LOL

        Liked by 1 person

      • They still wear uniforms at all the private schools for boys. The girls not, for some reason. Gray pants, white button-downs and the famous navy blazer. They do look cute as little men, yet you know, beneath all that sartorial perfection lurk little imps about to pull a B and E. Lol

        Liked by 1 person

      • I liked wearing the uniform. No thinking … get up, dress and your ready to go. I still have a difficult time deciding on what to wear. Black seems to work well for everything. 😉
        YUP … there was many a sweetie hiding in a closet, too, with her forever love that didn’t last until the nest grade. LOLOL


      • When I think of it, I wear kind of a uniform. Tights, long sailor shorts…flats. an LBD (little black dress) you can fold in your bag. My Barbour jacket with a navy blazer underneath, and I don’t even attend a boy’s school. LOL


  5. I rarely go to the post office. We have both a FedEx and UPS shop close by and they tend to be friendlier. When I was working (in my 20s) my boss asked me to get the largest dimensions for a post card (I was in advertising at the time). I called and asked. The guy at the other end yells to his friend “I always get the weird ones.” For heaven’s sakes, if he doesn’t know the postal dimensions then who does. Fortunately it’s much better these days. There are postal “outlets” at our local grocery stores and they are much nicer than those old government workers with the guaranteed pensions just waiting to retire.


  6. George says:

    New Yorkers but things in perspective in their own special way.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Gail says:

    Your story has that unmistakeable New York flavor.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. The post office is the mecca for characters, which is probably why I always wanted to be a mail carrier. Lord knows nothing would get delivered until midnight because I would have to talk to everyone on my route.
    No doubt greg would be my favorite co-worker…I love dimples.

    Liked by 1 person

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