Nobody

Recently went to the post office. Very long line. Two short, morbidly obese women walked up to the counter and plopped down an open, unmarked box. The clerk sighed and asked, “English?” “No.” They replied. They used a phone translator and made the clerk do everything. Pack the box, tape it, address it, label it, etc. “Next time you have to tape the box and address it.” She said in short, direct words even though we all knew they didn’t understand and wouldn’t care if they did. She sighed again. I got the strong feeling that this happened often but that the clerk was forbidden to turn them away. During the busy season they had taken up extra time using the post office employee like a personal butler. They shlopped away in flip flops (it’s the South☀️) and cartoon pajama pants, faces in their phones, large bellies oozing out from their stained, over stretched t-shirts. Greasy hair pulled into sloppy scrunci buns. Every little bit of this is a kind of tax on the systems we built, maintain, use and pay for. These women were not embarrassed as you or I might be trying to navigate a foreign system. There was no smiling apology or pleading eyes in their mannerisms. They didn’t care. “Serve us” seemed to be their only thought as they shuffled off to their next service. Our civilization is nothing more than a free vending machine to them.