Where's the post office?

    There was a massacre of innocents in Connecticut yesterday. Doctors found a blood clot in my dad's leg, but are not going to do anything about it for the moment. So you'll forgive me if I don't have anything particularly deep, wise, or funny to contribute at the moment. I'll try to do better tomorrow.
    I was reminded of a something funny that happened many months ago. I was pumping gas and these young women in a car asked directions to the nearest post office. I was a little flustered because although the post offices in Columbia and West Columbia (where I was standing at that moment) are conveniently located, directions to them are far from simple, and these women did not seem to be from around here. (I guess you could infer that from the fact that they had to ask directions to the post office.) I was starting to tell them this when, looking up, I noticed that there was a contract post office right across the street from us. "Or you could go there," I said with a smile, pointing it out. Those were two embarrassed young women, though they shouldn't have been. I've been buying gas there for years and I hadn't noticed it before either.