You Can't Send a Hick to Do a Val's Job

Hick and I don't run errands together. That never ends well. But Tuesday, we gave it a try, before the home-confinement goes into effect on Friday. Before the entire county shows up at Walmart for apocalyptic supplies of toilet paper on the 1st.

Since I was driving, Hick was the go-fer. At the main post office, I handed him money, and gave him instructions. Kind of like pinning lunch money to a little kid's shirt.

"Here is $11. Ask for a book of flag stamps. It will cost exactly $11. Get the stamps first. Put them in your shirt pocket. Then get the boxes for the boys' Easter package. Two boxes. They're flat. Unfolded. The LARGE Flat Rate boxes. They're on shelves across from the counter. Under the windows. They're white. You know. The ones we always use for the boys' packages. And get some labels. They'll be right there by the boxes."

"Them boxes won't cost me nothin'?"

"No. They're free. Because you pay so much to mail them, heh, heh. They WANT you to take them and use them."

Off he went. My little Hick. Eager to accomplish his mission. When he returned, I saw the stamps in his pocket. Good job, buddy! But then I noticed the boxes he was putting on the back seat.

"Wait a minute! WHAT are THOSE? They're BROWN! Those are NOT Flat Rate boxes."

"What do you mean. They was the only boxes I saw."

"I don't think so. Maybe they have two sets of shelves. I've never seen those boxes. Look. They don't say Flat Rate on them. These will cost by weight. Easter candy is heavy!"

"That's all they had! Here's the labels."

"Those aren't the labels we use! Can't you remember?"

"No."

"You've helped me tape them! You've taken them for mailing! Look. These labels say Priority Mail EXPRESS! That will cost a fortune! I'm not even sure those boxes are free..."

"Huh. Maybe I should have paid for those boxes. They seen me, though. They seen me walk out with them, and didn't stop me."

Heh, heh! Hick might beat me to being the next Public Enemy. On the way home, I stopped by the dead-mouse-smelling post office. To prove to Hick which boxes he should have gotten. Imagine my surprise when Hick remained in T-Hoe. At least he acknowledged that the boxes I returned with, as well as the labels, were different.

Not the same color, not the same size, different labels.

Hick says he'll use these boxes for something else. I'm sure he will.

The labels we use.

The labels we don't.

Hick does not seem to be very observant. Don't ask him for a description of a purse-snatcher. When we went in Walmart, I gave him a list with items in order of his route through the store. I made him take pictures of three items before we left home, so he'd get the right ones. He did with 2 out of 3.

He's learning.