Stamp It Out

So I’m walking to the post office with my snappy little sidekick the other day (I’ll bet you didn’t think I even had a sidekick, let alone a snappy and/or little one) (and no, she does not look like the Great Gazoo), and we’re talking about postage stamps. I’m telling her about the cute fruit ones, and she’s oohing and aahing because she wants to get cute ones too instead of the ugly ol’ standard American flags she always buys. I’m looking at her in amusement because she’s actually getting a little excited about cute stamps, and I’m telling her I hope they have something even cuter. But I’m worrying because I don’t know if they’ve come out with the cute 37-cent stamps yet, given that postage only increased a few months ago.
So we’re laughing because we’re on 19th Street instead of 18th, and we’re making fun of her pregnant stomach (yes, my sidekick is pregnant and just beginning to “show”), and I’m telling her she looks cute, which she does. We’re just a coupla crazy kidz on our way to buy cute stamps, strolling around Chelsea and squinting into the sun, when out of nowhere this not so cute/very sweaty ‘n’ slimy guy passes by and says, “Now there’s some niiiice pussy.”
What’s a girl have to do to get a moment’s peace? Can’t my sidekick and I just casually stroll down a quiet street on our way to the post office, converse gently about something as innocuous as the miniature flower or fruit portraits we want to press onto our mail, without having our sweet, brief moment invaded?
For five minutes, she and I were feeling like we were in Anytown, U.S.A. circa 1954, passing white picket fence after white picket fence, no concerns looming over our heads other than the stamps we were on our way to buy. Why must the rudenesses of Bigcity, U.S.A. circa 2002 confront us everywhere we go?
So when the guy behind the window at the post office slid me the colorful “LOVE” stamps, I didn’t bother telling him I’d rather have fruit. I figured that even if he just passed the LOVE stamps to me without thinking, I’d interpret it symbolically and take whatever innocent little bits o’ love someone in the city cared to give me.
(In case you’re wondering, my sidekick came away with three large teddy bear stamps, which I actually “awww”d.)