So I had to run an errand to the post office for work yesterday. I don't mind, it gives me time to get out of the office and walk around for a bit before getting to the post office. Thing was yesterday I had to carry about 50 pounds of boxes and envelopes to be shipped out. It wasn't TOO heavy, but after a while I could feel my arms about to give out.
So the line was really long, and I couldn't see into the teller windows because of the angle. I'd rest the boxes against a wall with my knee while waiting so I could take some of the weight off my arms. As soon as I'm up front, arms about to give out, this uppity sheboon with an Omarosa-esque weave just walks in from the entrance and cuts me off. Before I could even say anything, about 3 humans just yell "C'MON, HE WAS HERE FIRST!" and "HE'S GOT A TON OF BOXES!" The nigger ended up giving us the death stare, then pulls out A FUCKING ENVELOPE. It then stands at the window holding YT up while it tries to get this one fucking standard-sized envelope mailed. My arms were killing me.
Next window that opens up...Again, a coon comes out of nowhere and cuts me off. This is getting ridiculous. Finally, the first coon line-cutter with the one envelope leaves, and I run like hell to the window to find.....
.....The teller is a nigger.
Of course all the other tellers were niggers, too, and had this stressed out looking manager running around trying to fix their mistakes. So the coon cops an attitude when I say I'm in a hurry. The post office was gonna close in 15 minutes, and I had a lot of stuff to mail out. Of course there was a JET magazine on the coon's desk, and of course it was name Sharmaliqua or something like that. So it takes fucking FOREVER to process one box...Then FOREVER to process another.
I have envelopes that I need stamps for. They're special envelopes with some form letter stuff in them, so they need two stamps. Well, the boon refused to print out, like, 20 labels for the 20 envelopes, so instead I have to wait while it counts stamps. Oh. My. God.
Two stamps. That's it. Something like 22 envelopes. Simple enough. The coon has to get out a calculator to calculate the costs, and how to break up the books of stamps to get me what I need. I'm tapping my fingers on the counter, eager to leave. She looks up, giving me that "FUCK YOU YT" glare, and goes "Can you PUH-LEASE not tap ya'llz fingaz!" So after 5 minutes I get my stamps, and have all the boxes ready to go.
I look at the clock: 4:58. I have to get these envelopes mailed out TODAY and I have to manually put all these stamps on them myself, and I have 2 minutes before closing time. Fuck it, I thought, I'll just stay in the Post Office until they kick me out. Thank God coons are lazy, because they all just stayed in the back after closing. I got all my envelopes done and I mailed them out. Good to go!
And on the way out, in the lobby of the Post Office, was a drunk homeless nigger with Tourette's or something. It kept yelling short syllables like "BAAA!" and "MMP!" and "FFFFT!"
It'll be a cold day in hell before I have another coontact-free day.