New York Minute 100 - Post Office Interactions

I stopped by the post office with a couple of stamped envelopes in hand. As I walked toward the quiet corner of the lobby where the drop slots were located, I noticed a middle-aged lady pacing in the area and looking confused. She was no more than a few feet away when I reached up and slipped the envelopes into the letter slot, which, inexplicably, was nearly six feet off of the floor and much higher than more people’s eye level.

“Jesus Christ!” the woman shouted loudly in exasperation. “I was looking for that. Thank you!”

“It’s kind of high,” I remarked calmly.

As I walked out the exit, I noticed a man in his seventies approaching the steps with a wheeled suitcase. It’s only about four stairs from the sidewalk to the entrance level, but I figured that it would be easier for him to take the ramp at a nearby entrance. I motioned in that direction as I suggested this option to him. 

“I don’t want to walk that far,” the man explained as he struggled to carry the suitcase up the steps. “I have good days and bad days,” he continued. “Today is not a good day.”

A few paces down the sidewalk, I noticed a lady stepping out of the passenger side of a parked car. She seemed to be about the same age as the man with the suitcase, or perhaps a bit older, but it was hard to tell. She was able bodied and walked with ease, but her face was severely disfigured with plastic surgery.

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