I’m a digital subscriber to the New Yorker. I happened to find a physical copy of the magazine lying around my apartment. I wanted to send it to my 92 year old gran who has never read the New Yorker before. I thought she would enjoy the book reviews and cartoons.
I found a brown sealable envelope. I slid the magazine in and printed grandmas address. I scribbled my return address on the back. I found two red first class stamps. I didn’t know the exact postage but I estimated it would need twice as much.
Today I walked to the further grocery shop to buy postage stamps. The roads were quiet, pink blossom was on the trees and it was warm. Glistening half built luxury high rises tower above the intersection. There is a street of genteel street level homes, organic vegetable shops delivering food baskets. I rarely come to this area even though it is 5 minutes from where I live.
The teller gave me about 3 different options for combinations of stamps. I chose the cheapest. An old man was buying beer.
When I got to the post box I realised tomorrow is Good Friday and I didn’t want my parcel to languish in the post box over the weekend. I brought it home. I will have to post it on Tuesday.