Can you hear me now?

I think I need to start yelling at people.
No, I really hate that idea. It does something to my insides.

I purchased a card to send something to a friend of mind on Tuesday. She lives north of San Francisco. I live north of Nashville, TN, in a rather small town. But we do have a local art gallery. So I bought a card with a reproduction of a watercolor, an autumn scene in Kentucky. Very nice. I talked to the gallery director about the weather (here and in San Francisco), upcoming art shows, and the current requirements for art reproductions for sale.

I wrote a message to my friend inside the card. I labeled and sealed the envelope, and then I waited in line at the post office. There were liberty bell stamps and flag stamps in the vending machine, but I wanted something pretty and different for the card. My friend notices things like that. Thinking of the smile that would be on her face when she saw it made me smile, too.

"Can I help you?" said the woman at the counter, when it was my turn.

"I'd like to mail this card," I said, extending the envelope. "I didn't want to get one of the stamps from the machine. What kind of stamps do you have today?"

She punched a button swiftly, tore off the stamp that popped out, and slapped it on my card. I watched as the envelope disappeared into a slot. She looked back up at me.

"Anything else? You need a book of stamps or anything?" she asked me, obviously unaware I had been saying anything of importance.

"No, nothing," I said. I left.

The woman at the gallery must have better hearing or something.