I don’t know if it’s exactly a fetish, but I’ve long had thing for postal workers. It started eons ago when I developed a crush on the Postmaster back in Prior Lake. When I moved, I changed post offices and developed a crush on Mary. At least I think her name is Mary. We shall call her Mary. Mary always says things like “oh, I’ve got some intelligent conversation coming up” when she sees me standing in line. It cracks me up, but I’m not the person she’s currently helping who is apparently not as smart as I am.
All this explains why when I decided that it was about time for me to read some Charles Bukowski I opted for Post Office. Yeah.
What can I say about Post Office? It was kind of funny, kind of entertaining, kind of good? Perhaps I’m damning it with faint praise. But it was just okay. It’s about drunk, lecherous, womanizing Henry Chinaski who spends a lot of time working at a post office, and he hates it. I, of course, have a huge crush in Chinaski which is part because of the postal worker thing and part because in my mind he looks like Matt Dillion who played him in the movie Factotum.
The thing I liked the most about Post Office is that the narrative flies. I think I read this book in like two days. That’s pretty awesome.