Post Office

You know, I was wondering why lots of much-​needed rural post offices have been closing down, and yet this poor offering stayed open. And then I realised. The huge amount of locals needing their giros. It’s a simple matter of supply and demand.
Also, I wondered how come people always queue outside rather than starting a zig-​zag affair inside, even in cold weather. And then I realised. It stinks of stale sweat and beer and cigarettes and grease, and therefore it’s preferable to queue outside given the choice.
The staff are grumpy (who can blame them — someone rescue them and let them work in a proper post office, please), there are sun-​damaged jigsaws in the windows and toys from circa 1975 still hanging on those metal hooks in the wall.
My friend Craig came here once and overheard the following conversation:
Jacqui McQueen Lookeylikey — ‘I want to post this to Nick’
Post Office Teller — ‘To Nick who?‘
Jacqui McQueen Lookeylikey — ‘You know, to Nick’
Post Office Teller — ‘No, you have to tell me his full name and address’
Jacqui McQueen Lookeylikey — ‘Not to Nick, stupid, t’nick! T’clink! Armley Prison!‘
And that, my friends, sums up Hunslet Post Office. Use it for your postal requirements at your peril.