The US Postal Service Theatre

While ex art majors are employed as admin assistants or fruitlessly looking for art-related jobs, it appears that ex theatre majors are finding their role at the United States post office. It was Saturday morning and the line of bored, waiting, silent customers stretched from the "Please Wait Here" sign to the "Entrance ONLY" door. I was somewhere in the middle between Mr. Need-to-check-my-cell-phone-every-other-second and Ms. I-need-to-chew-my-gum-louder. But I was unable to keep my grumpy attitude for long. 'Steve', the long-haired man behind the counter was serving each customer with such drama, it was difficult for my twitching mouth to not laugh out loud.

"And how may I help yooooou today?" Steve smiled, graciously bowed and took the cream postal slip from the unamused customer. "Ahhhh! I see you've received a lovely packet from a Mr..., excuse me, the IRS! Do you care to accept it?"
The man nodded and I caught a hint of a glare.
"Here you go, Sir!" Steve handed him the package and bowed again. "Anything else I ca.." The man was already gone.

The next man stepped forward."And how may I help yoooou today?" Each customer seemed to be getting more of the dripping dramatic voice Steve could only have perfected in acting school. I almost felt sorry for his eagerness. The customer handed him a small envelope.
"Okay, Mr. ah Hutchinson, yes! Are there any weapons, sharp objects, liquids or threatening substances of any kind in this packet?"
"No. It's a CD"
"Well, that takes care of that! Now, how quickly do ah," he looked at the addressee,"Vickie and Harold need this CD?"
"Whenever."
"Okay, well we'll put that at First Class then and hey, we don't want them to get a broken piece of plastic now do we? We'll just stamp a few 'fragile' stamps and ..." He held it up for Mr. Hutchinson's inspection, "Good to go?!" He smiled triumphantly and the man, still not smiling, handed him the cash. "Anything else today, Sir?" The man disappeared through the "Exit ONLY" door. I was next in line.

"Helloooo miss! How can I help yooooou today?" I handed him my packet slip and he disappeared to find my box of contacts. "You have a message from the king!" He nearly shouted as he rounded the corner back to where I stood biting my lip to stop my sure, shocked laughter. "The Contact Lens King, that is!" He enunciated each word to reach the furthest section of audience now crammed in the never-ending line. "Do you care to accept this, Miss?"
"Yes. And here's my ID that you usually ask to see?" I opened my wallet and showed him my Indiana driver's license. Steve inspected it closely.
"Very nice photo, Miss. Thank you for showing it to me, but it wasn't necessary!"
I blushed, took the package and remembered I needed stamps.
"Is there anythi--" Steve's stage voice made me want to play along. No one else in the room was talking. I began with a bit too much animation.
"Yes, Sir! I need some stamps. What have you got for me today?"
He seemed to greatly appreciate my new-found interest in postage and began to display dozens of stamps on the counter:
"We've got Bette Davis, horse-shoes, tree leaves, bird feathers..."
"I'll take the Forever stamps. You still sell those, right?"
"Ahhh, YES! A very popular choice! A very popular choice, indeed!!!"

He finished the transaction, grinned and bowed as I left. The door closed but not before I heard the now-familiar "How can I help yooooou today?"