This actually happened at the North Downey Post Office, one
This actually happened at the North Downey Post Office, one of three in mid 2006.
I was at a window counter facing the "Apollo Center" strip mall and parking lot.I was going through several magazines I had exhumed out of seven postal lobby garbage cans.
The first one is located in a counter cabinet, with key lock cabinet door. It has a smaller swing door with "TRASH" engraved in the particle wood. It is easy to remove the trash, to get the magazines.
The second one is a rickety tin barrel.
The third one is a regular thirty three gallon plastic trash barrel, at a counter, in front of two stamp machines, and the in wall mail and package slots with swing doors. Plus a video camera is always pointed directly at the trash barrel, but not the two stamp machines. Weird.
There are four other thirty three gallon trash barrels in the lobby, and another tin barrel.
As I was going through the last barrel, gazing out of the window, looking at a beauty shop, this behemoth size, unattractive woman walks out of the beauty shop, in the direction of the post office.
Me: "Oh. That poor woman. Why does she waste her money trying to look pretty? Huge as an iceberg. I wonder why the beautitians even take her money? They should tell her to not to waste her money, that she'll never be attractive. Oh well."
I also had trash on the counter, as this was the last trash barrel I looked in. I was still removing magazines from the barrel.
In walks Misses Behemoth. She walks towards my way, then stops dead in her tracks, and stares at me.
She: "If you do not throw that trash, and magazines back in the trash, I will call the police." She said in a strict tone, in a raspy voice.
I ignored her, and continued pulling magazines out of the trash barrel.
She: "I got my cellphone in my hand!" She said again in the same tone, in that raspy voice, arm up hand waving her cellphone, for me to see.
Me: "And as ugly as you are, I bet that's all you ever held in your hand." I said in a low tone, but not low enough for her to hear. So I thought.
She: "I heard that! How disgusting and hateful! I am calling the police!" She said in anger, more raspier voice.
Me: "If you call the police, they will not respond. I had many people call the police on me. The first few times, they saw what I took from the trash, and what I did not take, as too people's identities, and the such, and stopped responding." I said in my normal tone.
She: "That is exactly why I am calling the police! You are a liar! When I call them they will respond!" She said in a rough tone much raspier voice
Me: "Do not dial Nine-One-One! This is not an emergency! Rather dial...I said the direct phone number to our Downey Police." I said in a truthful tone
She: "Oh?! So you're a smart ass too?! Huh?!" She said in a tone of chide, raspy voiced.
Me: "Damned! You women! You never believe what we men tell you! That is the direct phone number to the Downey Police! You know?! I bet that if you are married, and you think your husband, or, boyfriend, were looking for love from another woman, and, I can see why, nothing they say would ever change your mind!" I said in a tired angered tone, and when I said: "I can see why," I gave her the once over with my eyes.
She: "Oh! Oooooh! I am calling the police now!" She said in an angered tone, really raspy, laughing.
Me: "Well...I cannot say this was not amusing! I got it all on my stereo voice recorder! Will share it on social media later tonight! And I am leaving!" Hope to never see you any time soon!" I said in a smart aleck tone, as I with arm up, with voice recorder in hand, hand waving it for her too see.
She: "Give me that goddamned voice recorder!" She hollered out in anger, the raspiest voice yet, advancing towards me!
Me: "Like W. C. Fields said "Awwww! The hell wich yah!" Hope to never see you again! I am leaving!" I said in smart tone.
She: "You have to pass by me first!" She said in a growling tone and raspy.
Me: "Boy! Are you dumb! You walked in through the parking lot side doors! And I am going to exit through the Lakewood Boulevard side doors! Good bye!" I said in a chiding tone and laughing.
Misses Iceberg just stood there drooping her arms and hands at her sides, looking defeated.
The next day I was back at it. At the same counter, a stack of magazines, retreiving magazines from the barrel. And out walks Misses Behemoth from the beauty shop, heading back to the post office.
She enters, walks up to me, slightly hesitates.
She: "So? Back at it again? Aye?" She mutters.
Me: "Did you call the police? And did they say they know who I am?!" I asked in a chiding tone."
She: "Grrrrrrrrrr!" She growls, and walks on to her P. O. Box.
Many months later I was at NORMS Family Restaurant, on Firestone Blvd. in Downey, sitting at the counter as I do six nights a week. In walks Misses Behemoth! She sees me and walks past me. Her daughter is with her this time. The President and Top Editor of the City's free newspaper: "The Downey Patriot."
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