This morning at Hermanus Post office. Long queue and only two tellers. In front of me a silver-haired, small, old, sprightly and chatty lady. It’s her turn and she asks the teller cheerfully and quite loud: “I need stamps for overseas Christmas cards” “ R 5.05”answers the teller” “What? Last time I bought them they were only R3! I don’t need airmail, surface mail is good. How much is surface mail?” “ R 5.05 is surface mail” “ That can’t be true, she says, very convinced that she is right, can you check that please?” We, the people in the queue, start smiling, even chuckling. The teller shows her the tariffs in the booklet. “Well, then please give me 20 stamps for Christmas cards” The teller gives her a sheet of self-adhesive stamps and 20 normal stamps to make up for R5.05. The lady holds the sheet of self-adhesive stamps up in the air and says: “ Now what is this, are these stamps, what do I do with it” The teller explains it to her. Then the lady says: “And now I need 3 stamps for postcards to Zimbabwe, how much are they?”
We, the queue, can hardly contain ourselves. The woman behind says to me “That’s better than BBC comedy” The teller gives her 9 stamps for Zimbabwe Christmas cards: “ They are R4.85. “I wanted only 3 stamps for Zimbabwe, not 9” the lady says. “ Well, you have to put 3 of them on each postcard” explains the teller. “I see, she says, how much is it altogether?” The teller prepares the slip and I can hear many sighs of relief in the queue. Too early, though. “Actually if I buy 20 stamps for Christmas cards I should get a rebate. Don’t you give rebates for stamps for Christmas cards?” “No, I am sorry, we don’t” “You should suggest that to your manager!”
The first people in the queue have a laughing fit. The teller gives her the change and we all feel it’s time to move on. How wrong we are! “Listen my darling,” the old lady says to the teller, “I have no idea anymore which stamps are for what, I must write that down.” She dives into her bag and brings out a crumbled envelope and a fountain pen, which she unscrews. The teller explains which stamps are for overseas and which for Zimbabwe: “Not so quick, the lady says, I can’t write so quick”.
I dive into my bag for a Kleenex, I have tears in my eyes from laughing and I am not the only one. The teller gently takes the envelope and pen from her and writes everything down. “Thank you my darling,” the lady says and starts packing everything away and leaves. “Next customer please” In hindsight I think we should have given both the teller and the lady a big round of applause.
lelihoch 