I walked into town today to run some errands, and I don't know what kind of plague had been released upon the slumbering village of Wellesley, but there were kids everywhere. Really annoying ones. You know, not quite teenagers, not quite children, just old enough so you don't feel bad when you are overcome with the desire to smack 'em around. It was like locusts had descended upon the sidewalks, except without all the beauty and environmental benefits.
After trudging through hordes of tweens, I hit the post office, where I was confronted with something else I wasn't quite prepared for: the friendly postal worker. She was nice, and helpful, and then ... she tried to sell me more post-office stuff. I've never had someone push postal products on me before. I was helpless before her, and before I knew it, I'd gotten priority mail with delivery confirmation and a book of stamps. None of which I needed. It's just ... she was so nice. I was completely thrown off my guard. I was, in a word, dismantled.
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