I heard the distant chirping, saw confusion on customer faces and still chose to enter the post office, but really am I the jagoff? I mean I needed to mail something specific and not just drop the mail and roll from the self-serve area at the entrance.
Chirping and fear in the post office you wonder? Yep. In the main area of the PO was a proud dude chatting it up with customers while leaning against stacked up brown boxes on pallets. That is where the chirping was coming from. Inside the thousands of boxes was like a scene from the movie “Birds.” Beaks poked out of little holes and the chirping was like a horror movie preluding someone’s death.
OK, get it together. That is a little dramatic and there weren’t really thousands of birds or a death song, but that was the vibe. Turns out every Tuesday gaming birds are prepared for delivery, and the beaks through little holes part is totally true. So, who is the jagoff? The post office? The box-leaning dude in charge of the birds? The person(s) receiving the birds? The chic in the tight sweatpants who didn’t warn me that I was walking into this horror scene? It’s debatable. I say use it as a warning, term of endearment, don’t go to the North Side Post Office on Tuesdays in the afternoon if you are petrified of birds, ya jagoff!
