Monday, January 16, 2012
Earlier this month when Mr. Wonderful and visited Solvang for New Year's, I really started to think about what life might be like if we moved to a small town. Solvang is on the short list of places where we'd like to relocate, but as we traveled its streets and spent time in its neighboring villages, I began to worry that I might not be able to handle the smallness of it.
I grew up in a quaint, little town and I love the communal atmosphere it offered, but I also had the highrises of downtown LA twenty minutes away. I could venture to the tri-city area of Pasadena/Glendale/Burbank to try new restaurants or watch a taping of The Tonight Show. And now I'm right near the center of Hollywood, which affords me endless possibilities for dining, entertainment and freaky people-watching.
After this last trip, I was questioning whether I'd be able to hack it again in suburbia.
And then I went to the Hollywood post office.
It was Monday afternoon and when I walked in, there were about a dozen people in the regular line and half a dozen at the automated postage machine—and everyone was pissed about being there. The air was filled with sighs and grumbling, and after fifteen minutes of standing in line, I aborted my mission and walked back to my car.
The next day, I decided to run errands in my beloved hometown of Montrose. The post office was one of my stops.
Two feeble-looking old men stood in front of me in line, both of whom sweetly bantered with the postal worker who called them "hon." Within five minutes, I was at the counter and when I told her my package held homemade jelly, she stamped it profusely with her "fragile" stamp. She was all smiles and sugar and after I paid I found myself telling her how much better of an experience it was coming to that post office vs. going to the Hollywood one. She said, "Awe hon, it was a Monday. They're always crazy!" But I have a feeling even if I'd gone to the Montrose post office Monday, it would have been just as enjoyable.
A woman in line behind me heard us talking and said, "I purposely came to this office instead of going to the Burbank one. That one's nuts, too!" This interaction only added to the lovey doveyness that had overcome me.
I guess I really am cut out for small town living. Mr. W and I can always come down and stay with friends in LA if we need a dose of hipster culture or a night out at crowded bar. I'll just be sure to get all my mailing and shipping needs taken care of before we drive south...