The Post Office by Adam Kluger

typewriter

“Whatcha reading?”

“Moby Dick”

“Yeah, I like that one… read his others?”

“Melville? oh yeah…..Omoo and a couple others like Redburn which was actually a precursor to Moby Dick...you could see the progression…doesn’t have the poetry of Moby Dick, however…not much does.”

“Fuck poetry”

“Yeah, totally…except for Bukowski and Frost and couple others…Bukowski was more of a combination of prose and non-sensical haikus anyway–just focusing on mood you know?”

“Yep, totally. Let me get a hit of that?”

“Sure, thought you’d never ask”

“Hey it’s kind of nice out… you wanna head over to the Post Office steps over there?”

“Top steps?”

“Absolutely- check out the human carnival as it passes by.”

“Why the fuck not…this is spent anyway.”

The two work friends crossed the street and climbed up the steps of the Federal Post Office on 33rd St. and 8th Ave. on a glorious Summer day.

“How you liking the early shift?”

“It’s not too bad when you can get outside and enjoy a beautiful day like this afterwards–takes some getting used to –but a job’s a job.

“And a horse is a horse”

“Of course of course.”

“Did you see that new intern who started this week?”

“Kind of hard not to”

“How hot is she?”

“So hot that when she bent over my desk to talk to me about a news story and I smelled her nasty morning breath– I still got a woody.”

“Yeah dude, she’s bringing the heavy artillery–I mean she’s so hot that she melts her chair when she sits in it.

“Dude, she’s so hot that you cannot look at that tight sweater she’s wearing or you will immediately be camping in the middle of the newsroom.”

“Camping?”

“You know–pitching a tent–dude”

“Nice one”

Without any sort of warning,  a man in a white t-shirt with a red stain in the middle staggered down the middle section of the Post Office stairs–he looked like a deranged homeless person. In his hand was a shiny object.  No one was screaming or seemingly concerned about what was unfolding on the street as the man in the bloody white shirt was dripping blood and looking around.

“Dude–check this guy out”

The two friends watched the bloody man with great interest but not with  the level of concern they probably would have,  if they had been closer to the street where the deranged man stood bleeding.

“Drop it….Drop it right now! Lay the weapon on the ground  You are under arrest…”

Descending the stairs in a powder blue and grey uniform was a United States Postal Worker with a gun aimed straight at the confused and bleeding man who dropped the knife and then was summarily handcuffed.

A very small crowd watching the scene applauded.

“Check out Clint Eastwood!”

“Yeah man, that dude was not fucking around… he was like I work at the Post-Office bitch!”

“Who knew they even had guns”

“Makes you think, huh?”

“Sure does”

“Time to get going?”

“Yup, show’s over.”

“Rasta manana.”

“Later gator.”

Adam Kluger

banner Image – Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=430014

3 thoughts on “The Post Office by Adam Kluger

  1. An engaging story of two pot smoking post office comrades who not only enjoy witnessing the human carnival around them but are enthusiastic readers of fine literature! You gotta love ’em!

    Like

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