I have always wondered what a 'post office box' looks like. They have a mysterious cache, suggestive of spies dropping off 'dead letters'. I also remember them from school girl comics, when fan clubs gave their addresses. I expect the 'Bay City Rollers' needed sacks, rather than boxes.
It was rather a good opportunity to see one for real here in California, when I went to collect the post. I had the code word mnemonic in my head and a set of hastily written instructions on how to enter the letters (alphabet ones, not ones in envelopes - this could get confusing).
The post office here is very smart, with a tall flagpole with the Stars and Stripes waving in the breeze. The boxes covered a wall. They were quaint, in decorated brass with little windows so you could get excited about the contents. This had an inherent danger of causing jealousy, if you sneakily looked into other people's windows and saw more exciting mail, possibly even spy related messages!
I started twizzling the knob in different directions, getting the pointer lined up with the appropriate arm of the embossed star. It felt like I was breaking into a safe, I remembered all the old cowboy films with the hero pressing his ear to the dial.
Rather like breaking into a safe, it was proving very difficult to open the door. I twizzled and twizzled, this way and that. I tried different combinations of the code in case I had made a mistake writing it down, but there was no way the little brass door was going to relinquish its booty. A man came in and retrieved his post, and offered some advice, but as I couldn't give him the code, and still couldn't get the door to open, it didn't help.
Eventually I gave up and went back to base, where I was asked whether I had twisted the other 'door' knob after entering the code. I felt a bit stupid. The next time I went, I was able to 'break in' quite easily, although the knob needed spinning counter intuitively, so it still took a couple of goes.
I think I have uncovered the fact that I have a 'thing' about post offices (probably from the toy kit I was given as a child) as well as fire engines. Maybe I'm regressing, and turning into a 'kidult' here in California!
Postscript: I have always wanted to type the word 'mnemonic' but have to confess to a bit of a struggle on the spelling front for this!
It was rather a good opportunity to see one for real here in California, when I went to collect the post. I had the code word mnemonic in my head and a set of hastily written instructions on how to enter the letters (alphabet ones, not ones in envelopes - this could get confusing).
The post office here is very smart, with a tall flagpole with the Stars and Stripes waving in the breeze. The boxes covered a wall. They were quaint, in decorated brass with little windows so you could get excited about the contents. This had an inherent danger of causing jealousy, if you sneakily looked into other people's windows and saw more exciting mail, possibly even spy related messages!
I started twizzling the knob in different directions, getting the pointer lined up with the appropriate arm of the embossed star. It felt like I was breaking into a safe, I remembered all the old cowboy films with the hero pressing his ear to the dial.
Rather like breaking into a safe, it was proving very difficult to open the door. I twizzled and twizzled, this way and that. I tried different combinations of the code in case I had made a mistake writing it down, but there was no way the little brass door was going to relinquish its booty. A man came in and retrieved his post, and offered some advice, but as I couldn't give him the code, and still couldn't get the door to open, it didn't help.
Eventually I gave up and went back to base, where I was asked whether I had twisted the other 'door' knob after entering the code. I felt a bit stupid. The next time I went, I was able to 'break in' quite easily, although the knob needed spinning counter intuitively, so it still took a couple of goes.
I think I have uncovered the fact that I have a 'thing' about post offices (probably from the toy kit I was given as a child) as well as fire engines. Maybe I'm regressing, and turning into a 'kidult' here in California!
Postscript: I have always wanted to type the word 'mnemonic' but have to confess to a bit of a struggle on the spelling front for this!
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