[File under: for every action there is an equal & opposite reaction:]

I glance at errand list item 1: "Buy book of virgin mother stamps," as Filipina postal clerk announces, "Da baby Jesus is all dat we have left!" Which makes (only) me laugh out loud. I'm now so elated --- that the cosmos decides to squirt a dash of seasonal diarrhea on my Friday. A geriatric pervert in a yachting cap a couple of spots in line back strokes my upper bicep to alert me to my having dropped a paper scrap. Mid-flu & unable to muster up the angry response that a modern gal should give (I only yelped/jumped in surprise.), I'm obviously burned up as I eye the wastepaper, so the stern-looking creator of Mary Poppins-esque woman in front of him snatches it up for me. Though in my haze I failed to threaten to death-panel the resident-of-nearby-Leisure-World jack-off like I normally would...it all worked out, more or less. Nah, I should have kicked him in the junk. ...while screeching, "Da baby Jesus is all dat we have left!"