Pupping and an Inscrutable Clerk

Today was horrible.  Houses were pretty and flowers were beautiful.  Everywhere were clean sidewalks and neatly kept homes where people were quietly safe, well-adjusted and productively useful.  A lady was gently brushing oak leaves off her car, littered there by the tree overhead.  She looked content with her chore.  Another young woman was pushing her baby in a stroller; both were attractive and seemed to have no worries or concerns.  A dog on a leash sniffed a fence, didn't even lift his leg on it, looked so benign that I thought he was stuffed.

It all gave me a feeling that I was walking in a strange sensory deprivation zone.  The day was featureless and, well, plainly okay.  Sedate and peaceful to the point of tedium.

I was rather upended by so much of nothing wrong, to the point that it felt that something was actually awry, but I couldn't imagine what it was.  There was absolutely nothing going on.  Everything was fine. I wanted to scream.

I went back home and sat staring out the window for a while, my mind dulled, completely uninspired.  

I went for another walk later in the day, down to the post office, where the iconic symbol for the day emerged:  A very formal, emotionless but polite Chinese clerk waited on me.  I've seen him several times before, and he is always in tip-top form when at his station, always gives the ultimate in efficient, careful and perfectly regulated customer service.  He never makes a mistake and always treats everyone exactly the same as everyone else without even an iota of variation.

"May I help you at this window, ma'am?"

"Yes. I'd like to send this by certified mail."

"Would you also like to have delivery confirmation?"

"Isn't that redundant?" He waited for me to clarify my question, but I was at a loss.  He embodied inscrutability.  I didn't want to blither idiotically, but his silence seemed to encourage it; however, I held my tongue and quieted down.  He saw that I was ready for his explanation.  

"It adds a signature to the routine that the delivery person has to use when the parcel is delivered, ma'am."

"Well, no thank you, then."

"Very well.  Will there be anything else today, ma'am?" He asked, waiting for the next direction from me, confident that he could complete anything without fuss.

"No, thank you.  Here's my card."  His bearing was imperturbable, distant, efficient.  I wanted to tip his boat over, stick a rose between his teeth and turn on some sizzling Latin music.  Then, I imagined he could probably read my mind and considered me to be a lunatic.

"Debit or credit, ma'am?"

"Debit."

"Staple your receipts together?"

"Yes, please."

"There you go. Thank you. Have a very nice day." He handed me my card and receipt folded neatly together and bowed his head to me.  I listened carefully for the sound of a gong, muffled in the distance, but all was quiet and well under control.

I left the sanctuary/post office, walked down to Central Avenue, past the Centrella Hotel, downhill to the rec trail and then east along the waterfront for about a mile.  The ocean was blue, the sky was also blue, houses were neatly painted and birds circled picturesquely.  I found myself sighing a lot and wondering if there was going to be anything at all interesting about the day.  

Over near Hopkins Marine Station, signs and fencing had been placed warning away the public.  Okay, here we go, I thought.  Maybe a dead body had been found or a ship ran aground.

Nope, it was pupping seals.

I played with the word:  Pupping.  People don't pup; we aren't found to be pupping.  I was able to breathe normally again.  Something interesting was afoot.  It wasn't exactly mayhem, but it was better than the rest of the flatlined town had presented.

Pupping happens every April.  A few particular beaches that are small in size and well defined by rock outcroppings become home base for female harbor seals.  Dozens of pups are born and spend the next two months or so in the confines of the beach with their moms.  Crowds always gather.  It's Nature in full view, wildlife that's usually hidden in dark places.

The female seals were lying side by side on the beach sand, speckled torpedos with fur.  Only two pups were visible today, both curling up their flippers and lolling around in the soft sand near their mothers, clearly enjoying themselves in the sun.

A day that was nearly ruined with perfectly ordered uneventfulness was saved by wild animals lying around with their newborn babies.  Not earth-shattering, but it saved a horribly fine day.