Even though I’m at a different post office, the lady who helped me the other day is here at my local one, and she remembers me. “You just dropping off?” she asks, and when I confirm, she smiles and motions to step out of line and come to her window (which is a huge thing that never happens at this branch).
“You got off easy,” the guy standing at the front of the line says admiringly after I quickly drop off my package and thank her, and she explains to him that she knew me from the other day.
“Well, it’s nice to be nice,” I hear him say as I head out the door.
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