I finally get to use the word "chub-lorn".

My office window faces the Dairy Queen parking lot. Dairy Queen! As the weather cooperates and shorts are donned, the traffic to this ice milk haven increases. I live vicariously through the dog walkers and children sitting on the picnic tables slurping their concoctions of dairy and candy.

It is a war inside my head and deep in my guts between South Beach and DQ. DQ tries to kick South Beach’s ass, but South Beach has a weapon that is buried in irony.

LAZINESS. I am basically too lazy to get my fat butt off my chair to walk the football field length of the parking lot.

Oh the irony of the chub-lorn!

I am inspired to write about DQ today because it is Thursday. Every Thursday a secret meeting between government employees takes place at this Dairy Queen. The same 3 postal trucks park side by side every Thursday around noon. Their drivers perform a ritualistic lock down dance before exiting their little white coaches. I imagine them turning the dials on complex locks and using retina recognition technology to set the alarm that protects the precious cargo inside.

They meet for one hour, having juicy debates over what shade of blue their pants should be or how to best stiff the public when it comes to postage increases. They never come out with ice cream cones or sundaes out of respect for our bills and cards from grandparents.

They never talk as they are leaving either. This is peculiar to me. They walk out of the building separately, then solemnly get into their government vehicles to complete their daily chore of dispensing parcels and letters. I like to imagine this is proper etiquette for all postal workers…like it is written somewhere that if they happen upon each other, they should not engage in conversation.

I would like to think that the following are also included in said manual:

Blue government issued shorts should be no more than one inch above the knee and never under any circumstances be warn with navy blue calf-length socks.

Driving on the wrong side of the vehicle doesn’t make you cool. Even though 8 year old Stuffanie secretly aspired to be a mail carrier because of this fact.

If you are in a fight with FedEx and DHL, always assume the fetal position. You will not win, they have better uniforms.

If a person comes ill-prepared to one of your facilities, do not make them answer your barrage of questions about what is in my their package. Do not make me them feel like they are a terrorist and do not make them open it causing everyone in the line to glare and "tsk".

If you are delivering to an apartment building and you have the big bank of mailboxes open and you are sliding in the mail to the appropriate slots please trust the cute girl with her arms full when she tells you that she lives in apartment 217 and that in fact the Lane Bryant coupon and phone bill are hers.