The Outrageous Envelope

I told her that I was not going to be the one to take her manilla envelope to the post office. It would be too embarrassing.

At last count, Robyn’s 9”x11” mailing envelope had 51 one-cent stamps affixed to its face, with a 1.5”x2.5” rectangular space spared at the center for me to write in the address of her friend. There’s another equal-sized space left blank for additional postage that may be needed. Besides all the stamps and the two blank spaces, Robyn has included a pre-printed return address label to the upper-left-hand-side of the envelope, which takes up less space than two of the stamps.

“I have to commend you, Robyn,” I tell my 95-year-old neighbor, “You are very frugal…But this is too much. Will the post office even mail this with so many stamps?”

“Well, I don’t know. I’ll have to ask them.” I’m certain that Robyn won’t be the one asking the post office clerk – it will be one of her friends. I refuse to be that friend.

“Well, I’m pretty sure 51-cents isn’t enough postage for this big envelope, and you don’t have any more space for more stamps,” I explain. “You know, I can give you a new envelope with some Forever stamps and then you won’t have to worry about not having enough space for more of your one-cent stamps.”

“Oh, no. I have all these stamps and I’m going to put them to good use,” Robyn replies, shaking her head.

Robyn is a huge supporter of all charities relating to animal rights. As an incentive to get Robyn to give another monetary gift, the charities enclose, along with their “thank you for your donation” letter, a return envelope with three one-cent stamps attached. (I find it extremely odd that one charity, let alone several charities, would think that an envelope with one-cent stamps would be an incentive for a person to give again, especially when three cents’ worth of stamps would hardly be enough to get the envelope back to the organization.) Over the past several decades, frugal Robyn has been collecting these un-used stamps, carefully cutting them from their envelopes, for the times she needs them to post something.

Well, the time is now, apparently. She is hoping to mail a copy of my gun control series of articles to a friend of hers in the state of Washington. The mailing isn’t ready yet because she’s still working on a letter that she’s going to enclose with the printout. Given that it’s my writing that she is mailing, I should feel more guilty about not going to the post office for her – but I don’t. I’d be happy to drive her to the post office; I’m just not going to hand this ridiculous-looking envelope to the post office employee, asking if I have enough postage.

Robyn and I catch up on other things and then I leave for home. It’s not until I’m opening my car door, (Yes, Robin is a neighbor and I drive to her house – don’t judge me), that I think I should have taken a picture of that stamp-riddled envelope…

—   —   —

It’s several days later and I stop by Robyn’s house, hoping to get a picture of the envelope with my phone. But alas! I am too late. The envelope has been mailed.

I ask Robyn about the particulars. Robyn tells me she had asked another neighbor friend of hers to take her to a post office about twenty minutes from where we live. She didn’t want to go to our local post office because the last time she had attempted a similar mailing with an outrageous number of one-cent stamps, the clerk had shamed Robyn into believing that she couldn’t mail an envelope with so many stamps covering the front. I don’t know if strong-willed Robyn won the battle with the clerk, but I suspect she did. This time, Robyn didn’t want to be hassled, so she went to a bigger post office.

Robyn told me that the clerk at the bigger post office didn’t blink an eye when she handed her the stamp-burdened envelope. The mailing required an additional 71 cents of postage which the clerk printed onto a sticker which fit nicely in the space Robyn had left blank. (Together, Robyn and I muse about the fact that all the stamps likely made the mailing weigh more and, as a result, cost more…)

“So, it was you who actually went into the post office?” I ask.

“Yes, it was me,” Robyn confirms.

“Did your friend go in with you?” Robyn is mostly blind; I figured she would need assistance. But more than that, I wondered if her friend was like me, hesitant and embarrassed to appear at the post office with such a crazy-looking envelope.

“Well, no,” Robyn laughs. “He said he would drop me off then circle around and wait for me.”

“Ha-ha!” I hoot. “He was embarrassed to be seen with that thing too!”

I ask Robyn if she has more one-cent stamps saved up.

“Oh, yes! And I’m going to use them all!” She proudly states.