Charles Bukowski

Post Office. Chapter IV: 16

The riots ended, the baby calmed down, and I found ways to avoid Janko. But the dizzy spells persisted. The doctor wrote me a standing order for the green-white librium capsules and they helped a bit.

One night I got up to get a drink of water. Then I came back, worked 30 minutes and took my ten minute break.

When I sat down again, Chambers the supervisor, a high yel– low came running up:
“Chinaski! You’ve finally hung yourself! You’ve been gone 40 minutes!”

Chambers had fallen on the floor in a fit one night, frothing and twitching. They had carried him out on a stretcher. The next night he had come back, necktie, new shirt, as if nothing had happened. Now he was pulling the old water fountain game on me.

“Look, Chambers, try to be sensible. I got a drink of water, sat down, worked 30 minutes, then took my break. I was gone ten minutes.”

“You’ve hung yourself, Chinaski! You’ve been gone 40 min– utes! I have 7 witnesses!”

“7 witnesses?”

“YES, 7!”

“I tell you, it was ten minutes.”

“No, we’ve got you, Chinaski! We’ve really got you this time!”

Then, I was tired of it. I didn’t want to look at him anymore:

“All right, then. I’ve been gone 40 minutes. Have your way.

Write it up.”

Chambers ran off.

I stuck a few more letters, then the general foreman walked up. A thin white man with little tufts of grey hair hanging over each ear. I looked at him and then turned and stuck some more
letters.

“Mr. Chinaski, I’m sure that you understand the rules and regulations of the post office. Each clerk is allowed 2 ten minute breaks, one before lunch, the other after lunch. The break privi– lege is granted by management: ten minutes. Ten minutes is—”

“GOD DAMN IT!” I threw my letters down. "Now I admitted to a 40 minute break just to satisfy you guys and get you off my ass. But you keep coming around! Now I take it back! I only took 10 minutes! I want to see your 7 witnesses! Trot them out!”
Two days later I was at the racetrack. I looked up and saw all these teeth, this big smile and the eyes shining, friendly. What was it—with all those teeth? I looked closer. It was Chambers looking at me, smiling and standing in a coffee line. I had a beer in my hand. I walked over to a trashcan, and still looking at him, I spit. Then I walked off. Chambers never bothered me again.

Other works by Charles Bukowski...



Top