post office

So, everyday at work I have to go on errands. At first I found them to be a giant waste of my time, now I find them as amazing because I get to go outside and waste time around downtown ... I mean work really hard. One of my errands is going to the post office. I go there to empty the full PO box, pay for weird mail we can't do at the office and get certified mail ... certified. The same man stamps my certified mail everyday and I love him. Apparently he had a stroke a couple years ago and now does not hear or speak very well. He always waves me up to the front of the line and stamps my mail, makes some silly joke and then winks at me when I leave. I love him. The other day some rude boys were making fun of him in line ... no they di'uhnt! I felt a strong surge of motherly instinct to punch them in the throat with one hand, and balls with the other. I did neither but I seethed quietly to myself and then gave them dirty looks when he waved me to the front ahead of them. People are mean. My affinity for him may be heightened because of my own family history with strokes. Being that I never knew my grandmother pre-stroke, I only knew her with limited speech, and mobility I totally get the stroke thing. STILL, he's my little friend. I heart him.