The Fiery Creek Post Office is operated by Jennifer Wu, a trans-alligator girl – or just simply trans gator, I’m not sure of what the correct terminology is, and I don’t want to impose any kind of insensitive terminology – and it is located in whatever the most inconvenient place it is for you to go when you need it. This means that if, for example, you don’t want to go to the Petunia district because you might meet your aunt Doris who is a complete embarrassment for all of the family, the Post Office will be exactly there. It will also be right in front of your ex-boyfriend’s workplace, or just next to the house of those friends that you’ve told that you will be out on a holiday when you really are in town, trying to survive of the dead pigeons that fall in your backyard, which you pick up furtively at 5 AM, without realizing that your next door neighbour is taking photographs of you with the intention of blackmailing you.
This also means that the Post Office is in several locations at the same time, and that Jennifer, the alligator, is in all of those locations at the same time. The Post Office has worked like this for the last 56 years, ever since THE FIRE, which we are not going to talk about just for the sake of mistery, brought the old Post Office down.
One good thing is that you needing to post something does not imply that you have to post it yourself. For this purpose, a few years into the new Post Office system, Town Council brought some software engineers from the future and paid them generously to create a website or some tool that would reduce the awkwardness. These engineers took the money and invested it in values that they knew would grow to earn themselves fortunes for the future. Then they did nothing about the town’s problems, and disappeared.
After this fiasco, they had the student intern learn some website programming from the future to create a site that would allow citizens to post stuff for each other. This way, you can mark non-awkward areas of town for you and deliver mail for other people, while other people deliver the mail for you. Once the system was completed and running, the intern got fired on the spot. This system has saved the town from a lot of awkwardness.
The Post Office is one of the few public services in Fiery Creek that works smoothly. You (or someone else) take your mail there, do a ritual sacrifice with your goat, pray to seven different dead gods (it really doesn’t matter which, but it is generally recommended to chant for the reptilian gods), Jennifer accepts it with her snout, holds it carefully with her jaws and throws it down a hole. This apparently takes it to some delivery system unknown to men and gators and into the world.
On the other hand, if you have to receive a package, the system is even simpler. Some government officials hold your package once it is in the Post Office for about a month, just to research its contents. You will be notified of when the parcel/letter has arrived, so that the feeling of guilt for your crimes against the community sinks in. Then Jennifer will pack it together, chomp it a little bit and call you so that you go pick up the package telepathically.
The whole system has only failed once. A few years back there was a man, about whom, once again, we are not going to talk just for the sake of mistery, who had no awkward spot in town, so it could not appear anywhere. Jennifer had to go to this man’s house herself to pick up the package, against all rites and traditions of the town. But this is an episode that we are going to conveniently forget.