50 x 35cm
You hear all kinds of nasty things these days about
the postal service. Some say it's a pity we're not living
in the times when you could depend on Wells Fargo -
or who ever it was - to bring the mail through. Others
always have a moan & groan about Telkom & the
new South Africa & affirmative action & say in spite
of modern technology & state-of-the-art equipment &
what-have-you things aren't working the way they should
& why can't things get speeded up?
They prefer to forget that at times in the old days the
postal service wasn't all it was cut out to be. You've
only to listen to Black people talk about growing old
while waiting to receive attention & service at post
office counters in the days of Apartheid.
Now some people seem to suggest that all we do is
sit & read our newspapers, fill in crossword puzzles, drink
tea, knit & chew bubble gum. I suppose some think that
that's what we do - or that while we're waiting for
the mail to arrive or depart, or what ever, we post-
mistresses sit & gaze off into the wild blue yonder, a
glazed look in our eyes & we probably wave a fan
about that the Post Master general sent us a part of our
leisure kit. We sit with our fans & pass the day.