Here’s a very special writer at the postcard desk. He came with his wife and another lady, if I remember correctly. They picked a few cards and the couple wrote a card each to their son and daughter. On being asked to lick the stamps, the gentleman told us, “I’m from the generation who used to lick stamps to stick them. Why don’t you do it for us?”. Well, we came to a deal where one of us did one and one of them the other!
Anyhow, once they were done, the ladies moved ahead to have a look at the other stalls, while this gentleman stayed back to secretly pick a card for his wife; quickly wrote it, picked the stamps, paid and ran off.
Simple enough, aye?
