A package destined for the land of football-playing ducks was transferred
to one of the old guy's brown-clad minions with nary an expected sneer, a
feared under-the-breath grumble about people who wait 'til the last minute,
or justified passive-aggressive inquiry about why the package couldn't have
weighed even more.  In fact, she was downright pleasant and friendly. It
made standing in the line worthwhile.