Some people are blessed with the ability to naturally attract luck, fame, fortune or beautiful people. I seem to be a magnet for other people's insanity.

I went to the local post office today to mail my dad's resume back to him (I had reworked it for him over the weekend, then told him my laser printer would look more professional so I'd print out copies and Priority Mail them back to him). The line is always long at the post office, but it was actually kind of short today -- I only waited 20 minutes to get to the window as opposed to my usual half-hour. But right when I was at the front of the line, this elderly woman steps up out of nowhere and asks me if I mind if she goes to the head of the line. Do I mind? Hell yeah I mind!

Well, she's got a good reason. She's got a suspicious letter. I asked her, "Do you have it with you?" thinking that maybe if she said "no, it's in my car" or something, I could tell her to go home and call a Hazmat team if she's concerned. But no, she's got it with her -- she reaches into her bag, pulls out this letter and starts waving it at me.

I'm thinking, first of all, if you think there's something in this letter that's suspicious, why would you be carrying it in your bag that you bring around with you everyday where, if you think there's something in it, it could contaminate everything you've got in there? Second of all, why didn't you seal it in a Ziploc bag or something? Third of all, it looks like someone left dirty fingerprints on it which isn't suspicious at all -- I leave dirty fingerprints everywhere after I've read the newspaper -- and I seriously doubt that someone would target you in the middle of suburbia as an anthrax target. Finally, why the hell are you waving it in my face if you think it's suspicious?

At this point, the other elderly woman behind me pokes me in the back and says, "Well, we've been waiting here for a long time." To which the response is, "But I've got a suspicious letter!" (This will become the chorus for the entire discussion that ensues between the three of us, and the post office window workers are moving slowly enough that the discussion lasts for a few minutes.)
"I don't think it really looks that bad."
"But I've got a suspicious letter!"
"Well, we've been waiting here for a while... I don't think it's fair that you just jump the line."
"But I've got a suspicious letter!"
The woman behind me looks at me and says, "You're next in line. Go when the next window opens up."
"But I've got a suspicious letter!" This continues along similar lines for the duration of the discussion.

Finally, the next window opens, and the woman with the suspicious letter declares, "Well, I don't care, I'm going," and jets across the floor to the window -- to which I'm thinking, if you don't care and you're just going, why did you bother asking me in the first place? I look back at the woman behind me and shrug, but to her (and my) relief, two more windows open up a few seconds later so she won't explode that someone cut in front of her. Then I send my package on its way and get the hell out of the post office for fear that someone else will accost me on the way out to ask me what I sent and did it contain anthrax.