Going to the post office

This morning we woke up at the crack of dawn — 8:30 is the crack of dawn if you go to bed at 2:30 in he morning, believe me — and headed down to San Luis Obispo. On the agenda was a trip to the post office to send a package with the manuscript I just read, plus two homemade cookies, a weekend life-drawing class at Cal Poly, and some time at the Robert Kennedy Library for Evan to relax and read. The class starts promptly at 9:30ish, so we decided to hit the post office first. We pulled right up into the first parking space, like everything was going exactly our way. We shook the locked door in utter disbelief, discovering that the post office opens at 10:00. So, we counted our blessings, decided to grab a bite to eat across the street at the Metro Café, where breakfast is really the best thing they do, head over to the drawing class, then try the post office on the way home. After three straight hours of drawing a naked lady — excuse me, life form — I was starved. I found Evan. We ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the steps leading down to the library. We bumped into Justin Houseman. Then we made our way over to the post office. This story is starting to sound pretty dull, but it gets better. I slapped the package on the counter. The lady looked it over rather suspiciously and asked, "Anything liquid, fragile or perishable in this package?" I thought, "Oh, shit. Maybe Evan was right." When I sealed up the package last night, he said I probably shouldn't put cookies in the same envelope as the manuscript. I hesitated for a moment, then rather timidly I said, "Two cookies." With a boom of enthusiasm I would never have expected from a postal employee, she said, "I THINK ALL PACKAGES SHOULD HAVE TWO COOKIES IN THEM. That'll be $3.95."