**sigh** The postmaster is amused by me, and the dolls, and knows me by name (after I showed up on a day that the PO wasn't open for business, but they were present and processing and sat on the back of the loading bay reading a book until someone came and asked what the hell I was doing - which is when I gave them my 'missed package' slip, and explained that I'd been home, and waiting, and the delivery lady had [once again] not honked, or done anything else to indicate she was in the area. The postmaster himself went and got the package and brought it to me, and I then proceeded to open it right there and pulled a naked, two-foot-tall doll out of it and squealed about his feet. With the postmaster watching in disbelief.)

Ever since, he starts laughing every time I come in to the PO, and insists on being the one to help me himself. Accuses me of wiggling and getting way too excited, and always asks if my package is 'another doll.' Which is cute, but doesn't help me with my non-delivery problem at all. =_=