(our local PO, during the campaign to 'save' it)
My visit to the Post Office next door today was quite typical and went something like this:
Katie: Hello, I'd like to send this package to the states, please.
English-Style-Grumpy Post Office Guy (who runs the PO with his wife): (eyes me suspiciously, says nothing)
PO Guy: To the states?
Katie: Uh, yeah? You know, like I usually do?
PO Guy: To Utah again, ri'? Indian Country it is.
PO Guy: 'ave you got a lettah in that box?
PO Guy: A lettah, 'ave you got a lettah in the box. (motions as if writing with a pencil)
Katie: Um, I guess, there's a little card inside.
PO Guy: (sucks in deeply). Tha'll cost ya.
Katie: Um, what?
PO Guy: You've got a lettah in there. Tha'll cost ya dooble.
PO Guy: Dooble what i' would cost ya if there weren't a lettah in it.
Katie: Sorry. Are you saying that it costs double to send this package because I put a card inside it?
PO Guy: (smiles like the Grinch) 'ow long 'ave you lived heah?
Katie: Um, ten months.
PO Guy: Well you'll getta know our strange English ways. See, most people send their lettahs in separate envelopes that way you'll save the rate on the packet. That'll be seven pounds fohty please.
Katie: Seven pounds forty?
PO Guy: (smiles like the Grinch)
Katie: (hands over the money).
I love our little post office. Every visit is a fun little ordeal, confronting the grumpy PO man. He never lets me off easy. If I go to buy milk I get a lecture on how British milk is so much better than American milk. If I have a handful of change he says he can't take coins at the moment. And I'm always getting lessons on how 'see, in this country we do things differently...' I think he believes he has a special gift of confusing innocent Americans, and I am the only one on which he gets to exercise that gift.