Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Overheard in the Waiting Room

The heat and humidity we’ve been experiencing finally broke last night in a patchwork of little rain showers that drifted through Central Missouri, and this morning the winds were certainly from the north.

Yesterday, it was shorts and a tee shirt. It was in the low nineties. Night before last, I couldn’t sleep because I was too warm. But today, I’m wishing I had worn actual shoes instead of just sandals. It’s overcast and breezy. I’m wishing I had a light jacket with me; it won’t even get up to seventy today.

This has been a lovely break. Even the cats were fritzy again this morning, invigorated with the fresh cool breezes making the curtains wave in the window.


Waiting rooms are great places to people-watch. Today at the dentist’s office, the letter carrier came in about 12:45, handed the receptionist the day’s mail, and engaged in brief conversation.

You know. The kind of light conversation, fringing on banter, that turns a daily transaction into a pleasant occurrence. Chitchat that leaves you both smiling.

Naturally, the conversation was about the weather. The letter carrier said he’d felt sleepy all day, that it felt like a Monday. “Good sleeping weather!” he announced. Then he added, “Good day to be outside walking around!” The receptionist answered, “Yeah, that’s for sure,” smiling enviously from behind her desk.

And the letter carrier grinned and boomed, “Yeah, this is mailman weather!”

“Mailman weather.” That’s a keeper, isn’t it!

. . . And it made me laugh out loud.


Jackie said...

I heard a cracker at the market on Sunday. A woman was browsing a stall and was chatting to the stall holder. Something was said about his wife and he says 'Oh I lost my wife'. Well the woman was kinda embarressed and said 'am sorry to hear that' at which he replied 'it's ok she's not dead she left me years ago and I was never happier' I nearly had hysterics on the spot.

Anonymous said...

Here in the "big city" I'm not even sure what "mailman weather" is anymore, since our carriers don't even get out of their trucks, but just drive from box to box. But I do have fond memories of our mailman when I was a kid. His name was Nate, he called us all "Blondie", and he never failed to buy lemonade at our lemonade stands all summer long. Boy do I miss folks like that!---Karla

Julie said...

Jackie: that's hilarious. After overhearing something like that, you can't help laughing and thus betraying your eavesdropping. But what the hey. Sometimes I think people make comments like that in hopes that they'll be overheard (and appreciated). Very funny.

Julie said...

Karla: I think I know what you mean about the way "chatting with the letter carrier" almost feels like a different world. And trust me, I think there are more places in Jeff that get their mail from a truck than from a person on foot--it's just these old neighborhoods where they go on foot. I've been wanting to write about this feeling of "neighborhood" soon--past, present, future. So stay tuned.