The last few weeks

Here are some tidbits from the last month or so. If I managed to keep a list of things I wanted to blog about, why didn't I just write? The world may never know.

1. What do you find under the marquee for Menopause: The Musical!? A bunch of post-menopausal women! Who else? Brian and I happened upon this site one Sunday afternoon. There was neither a man nor a woman under 50 to be found.

2. I finally got a Love Bagel! Notice I did not say ate. I didn't eat it for two reasons.
a) It was a masterpiece.
b) It had raisins, which I disdain.

3. Two weeks ago I left work a little early to make it to the post office before catching the train. I figured there wouldn't be much of a line at 4 p.m. on a Wednesday. I was mistaken.

The line was about 8 people deep, which doesn't seem insurmountable when there are two clerks. The Boston postal workers have nothing on Columbia's, but they do a decent job keeping things moving.

However, I underestimated the needs of one customer. He had literally 20 packages to mail. It was taking forever! Meanwhile, there was a little girl in a stroller periodically screaming Mommy and then Help! Help! when Mommy didn't answer. Mommy had decided to park the stroller and child by the envelopes instead of keeping them with her in line. Trying to teach a three-year-old independence or trying to get a moment's peace? I won't judge because eventually this little girl was voicing my inner thoughts, minus the Mommy part.

The man who got in line behind me was a chatter. I don't do small talk. I will answer pertinent questions and smile politely, but I do not keep up conversations with strangers. This guy was good, though. I had sucessfully dodged a conversation with smiles and nods until he hooked me with -- spelling. He pointedly asked me whether it was all right, allright or alright? Ever the editor, I responded: depends on the context.

This actually shut him up! He didn't try to engage me again until I was finally at the counter, and he had made it to the second clerk. He asked her about the spelling. The clerk suggested one work with one L. The man demanded a dictionary and then was outraged that one wasn't available!

Then he said: "Well, that young lady (meaning me) said it was one word with one L (I didn't), and she has never been wrong in her life."

I turned, looked him squarely in the eye and said: "That's true." And then I scurried out of there and didn't look back.

More vignettes tomorrow!