Our strange, butch, postwoman, or postal delivery officer (or is it post operative - ha! no, that might be presumptive) has just arrived outside, as always in what I assume to be her own car, a large and rather butch Fiat hatchback.
Is she so lazy that she can't walk her round? Is she given special dispensation - not to mention insurance - by Royal Mail to use her own car, rather than a Post Office vehicle?
It's very odd. She parks in a space here, opens the boot, rummages through sacks of mail, and pulls out the post for the block here. Sometimes she leaves the car and wanders out, presumably to deliver to other local addresses.
Then she comes back, inexpertly extracts her car from the car park, with lots of kerb-bumping, and off she goes.
Is she so lazy that she can't walk her round? Is she given special dispensation - not to mention insurance - by Royal Mail to use her own car, rather than a Post Office vehicle?
It's very odd. She parks in a space here, opens the boot, rummages through sacks of mail, and pulls out the post for the block here. Sometimes she leaves the car and wanders out, presumably to deliver to other local addresses.
Then she comes back, inexpertly extracts her car from the car park, with lots of kerb-bumping, and off she goes.
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