For those of you who read my blog on Ghetto Mart and hated it don t read on.

Today, I had the unfortunate experience of going to the Ghetto Post Office. I generally avoid it like the plague, but, you know circumstances: It was five o clock, the post office closed at 5:30, I had a package that must be mailed today you get the picture.

Now, I generally go to one of two post offices, one in Hancock Park on Larchmont. This sucker is hidden in a bank you d never find it. There are no lines, the nicest clerk you d ever meet.

Alternatively, I send packages from a post office in Santa Monica on Montana. Nice people, stamps and boxes you can browse through, but it does have some really long lines. I usually pass the time by striking up conversations with the moms with strollers they love to talk about their babies . . .

But today baby talk and nice clerks were not to be my fate. I went to the post office that assumes well before I walk into the door, that I m a terrorist. You may mistake it with a local jail but I assure you, it s a post office.

Tall iron bars surrounding the building. Bullet proof glass separating you from the clerks. Browsing for stamps, out of the question. Want some packing materials you ll have to wait for the clerk with the key, who ll surely keep an eye on you while you choose from behind the glass. Want to mail a package well now, that ll be a feat. Be sure to heft your package to about chest height and set it through the bullet proof portal. And be sure to close your Plexiglas door otherwise the other side wont open.

Maybe I’m just assuming too much. Perhaps all the ’security’ measures are to protect the clerks from each other in case one of them goes postal.

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