I traveled to the United States 5 years ago. After a three-month stay in Alaska, there are a lot of warm things left to carry with you no smile at all. The next stop for a couple of weeks was Miami. From there, we decided to send our things to Russia, home. They came to the mail, bought a box, packed it properly and went to order the package. The operator was a classic big-mama - a good-hearted black-eyed African-American with a thousand stitches on her head and a weight of one and a half cent. During the process there was a dialogue:

- Sir, in the column "recipient" you must indicate the name of the person who will receive this package.

Everything is right. I will take this package myself.

He smiles and mistakenly turns his gaze from the paper to me and back.

Are you leaving Miami so quickly? and disappointed

“No, we just arrived and plan to stay here for a couple of weeks, then New York awaits us. and :)

How do you get your package?? to

I promise you I will get it personally without any problems. I was amused by her too good opinion about our mail system.

OOO OOO! You are playing me! You laugh and kill!



The package was delivered quickly and paid cheaply. Five weeks later, I received it at the central post office of my city. I remember shaking, but kissing. The aunt who gave me the package was first long read in the "pump" on the box, and then strangely cracked on me) This is the opinion of our Post from American colleagues :)