it is a hot day.
i am handling the foreign mail, which means i wheel a heavy cart
filled to the brim with slick large envelopes to be mailed to potential
visitors to our state. it’s what departments of tourism do.
our offices are right downtown amid all the high rise buildings. the
one the postal branch is in, is a national treasure. it still has one of those
old revolving doors i used to love as a child. i do not love them anymore.
i think the cart will fit. maybe the cart would, but not with me too.
oh good lord! i’m stuck. i’m in here now with the cart.
envelopes are sliding everywhere. a tourism nightmare.
i’m straddling this stupid cart. the door won’t move.
my skirt is now creeping up to my waist as i try to climb
over the cart. no room. thank heaven i wore pretty underwear!
one shoe has come off. one high heel on and the other stuck between
the doors. i thrash around like a helpless bug trapped under a glass.
i am beyond hot. i am melting.
i manage to look up. the slippery envelopes now enveloping me.
in the highrise across the street, it turns out that i am the main attraction
during break. i am better than donuts and bagels!
a deep voice comes from the other side of my entrapment.
“just stay calm. i’m going to get you out of there.”
another one of those heroes in my life.
(if you’re new to this blog… it was the very first post.)
they just appear when i need them the most.
aren’t they wonderful?
i have never used a revolving door since.
i’m retired now. and i’m sure there will be more embarrassing
moments in my life.
some say it’s best to forget . . .
but then . . . confession they say, is good for the soul.