There's Hope at the Post Office!

It's a familiar, worldwide phenomenon: surly postal workers. Paris has no shortage of them, especially at the central post office, which is open 24/7. So imagine my surprise the other day when I stepped up to the window specially reserved for colorful collector stamps. Don't ask why, but about 6 months ago I was seized by the desire to deck my missives with pictures of yellow labs or national monuments, as opposed to the generic long strips that save time but tend to depress. As usual, the middle-aged, bespectacled woman - the same one I'd seen at least 15 times - greeted me with an obligatory grunt as I asked for a booklet of 10 pretty stamps. She showed me a board with a few different options, I painstakingly made a choice, then she said, "Wait, there are more on the other side." "Uh oh," I said, turning the board over, "It's getting complicated now!"

Was it my rather awkward turn of phrase? My implication that a good selection of stamps was complicated? My choice of spring flowers? I'll never know, but her reaction was among the best I've encountered in 18 years in Paris: a totally unexpected, hearty cackle accompanied by a genuine twinkle of the eye. "Ah, complicated, indeed!" she echoed, then voiced her hope that the flowers would hasten the arrival of spring. Our little moment actually turned into a chat, which made my day, or possibly my week! Month?