I walked into some sort of shitstorm last week at my local post office. It went something like this.
INT. POST OFFICE DAY
Anne walks up to the stamp machine and begins the exciting and antiquated process of buying stamps. Out of the corner of her eye she spies a late twenty something early thirty something dude with a large package which he is taping at the counter. A female postal employee has apparently just offered him some assistance.
DUDE: I SAID I DON'T NEED ANY HELP.
MS. POSTAL EMPLOYEE: Fine. (exasperated, walks away, shrugs shoulders and mumbles something to the effect of "Suit yourself, a-hole")
DUDE: (goes back to taping and leaves the main room of the post office for the vestibule where the self-serve Priority Mail Box bin is and tries to open the bin)
clank! clank! clank! clank! clank! clank! clank!
CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK!
DUDE: (louder sigh)
CLANK! CLANK! CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!
DUDE: (WICKED LOUD SIGH)
VOICE BEHIND POSTAL BIN INSIDE POST OFFICE: Yes?
DUDE: (through bin wall) Is this broken? I just used it a minute ago!
MS. POSTAL EMPLOYEE: Oh, that's the dude who just said he didn't need any help. (to Voice behind bin wall)
CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK!
VOICE BEHIND POSTAL BIN INSIDE POST OFFICE: No, it's not broken. Stop touching it.
DUDE: Ok! I'm not touching it. (waits)
MS. POSTAL WORKER (to Voice Behind Bin Wall): Oh, yeah. Doesn't need any help, that one.
DUDE: ... (waiting for response and/or bin to open)
DUDE: ...(still waiting, with box balanced against knee and wall underneath the bin)
VOICE BEHIND BIN: ...
MS. POSTAL WORKER: He left! (laughs to Voice Behind Bin). Didn't need any help.
ANNE: (laughs, collects $8 bucks worth of stamps --and $12 in dollar coins-- and leaves, satisfied that she wasn't the one pissing off a postal employee)