felon.

 

 

(The song is Valerie by Amy Winehouse, I just wanted the song not the video.)

I didn’t mean to be a felon, I really didn’t, but as I walked toward the middle-aged woman with dark roots I wasn’t sure my story was going to hold up.

Let’s start from the beginning shall we?

My intentions were of the truest intent. I was sending my brother his Christmas present that came the day after he left.

The Sopranos season two.

Better late than never right? It’s not January or anything.

Anywho.

I went to my local post office to mail this along with a cell phone case that didn’t fit my phone.

Fact. I love going to the post office. It makes me feel grown up.

And, going to the post office always takes forever.  

But, this particular day was bad. The line was out the door, I guess everyone bought bad phone cases or something.

I had already packaged the phone case, but I needed to buy a padded envelope for the DVD’s. I grabbed one from the wall after waiting for fifteen minutes just to get in the door. I addressed the envelope and saw a vision.

The automated postage maker.

With no line.

I ran to it with open arms. I was about to miss Happy Hour at Sonic.

I paid postage on both packages and went on my way. It was while I was sipping my Diet Sprite with cranberry and lime that I realized something.

I didn’t pay for the envelope, I only paid for the postage.

You always hear those stories growing up about how Johnny didn’t pay for the candy bar his mother wouldn’t buy for him, so he had to go back to the store and talk to the owner.

I became Johnny today.

I waited in yet another horrific line at the post office, patiently this time. Then I approached the post master.

“I’m so sorry, I’m a felon. I stole one of these envelopes. I thought I could pay for it at the self checkout out there. But you can’t, that’d really be a nice feture though. Just a thought for the future. I’m so sorry, I’m more than willing to pay for it. I can go help sort mail if that’s needed to work off my debt to society. I really am sorry. I was just trying to get my brother his Christmas present. Sorry. Do you celebrate Christmas? I should have said holiday present. Did I offend you? I’m sorry. My mom asked me to mail it to him weeks ago. It’s not like I didn’t have time, I just forgot. And we didn’t have any of the padded envelopes. They’re great. The cell phone case I mailed back came with one, so I didn’t have to steal two. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to steal it. I’m an accidental shop lifter. Please don’t make me become a postal worker. I’m just not a huge fan of dogs. I have a dog. She’s Satan. I love the post office though. I guess I could work here…”

So I ramble when I’m nervous.

Don’t judge.

She had an unreadable expression while I spewed my guts out.

She just took the envelope I brought to be exhibit A, scanned it, and said “Thanks for coming back.”

Then she yelled NEXT.

And I was off the hook.

Lesson learned. Don’t steal from the post office.

$1.35 just isn’t worth it.

Cymoni, aren’t you proud?