- Sync and corrected by Albanda - - www.Addic7ed.com -
- Here you go, kid. - Thanks.
You know, I hear a lot of stories
come out of that backseat,
but yours is a doozy.
I haven't told anybody. I can't believe I told you.
Don't worry, honey. You're doing the right thing.
And mail that letter...
'cause life is short.
I know.
But, um, I'm so late.
Could you... ?
Yeah.
No problem. All part of the service.
Taxi. Hey!
Uh, we're going to the Oxford.
Well, get in.
Okay, you're not going to believe this.
He missed the train.
I know.
No, he'll be okay.
He's going to catch the 2:00, so I'm just letting you know.
I'm fine.
But you'll have to keep everybody there until we get back.
Sorry.
Could I mail this letter?
Yeah, whatever.
I don't know.
You can feed them whenever.
Perfect. And there's some salsa in the fridge.
Do you know...
Yeah. Okay.
That's great...
Sometimes, I wonder who mailed the first letter.
Who was that brave soul who put a stamp on an envelope,
and released it into the world,
trusting a stranger
to deliver it across the miles and across time.
In this new world of instant replies
and casual deleting,
what I love about my work is,
I can hold a letter, a real letter, in my hand,
and be that stranger whose sole mission...
Next!
Yes. Uh...
I'd like a cup of coffee.
"Aspen," "vail," or "steamboat"?
I'm sorry, I'm not following?
Small, medium, or large?
Oh, large. Large coffee.
Right. Uh... which coffee?
Uh, what do you recommend?
Everything's on the board.
This is my first visit.
Frankly, I wouldn't be here at all
if my coffee machine hadn't been illegally appropriated
after an unfortunate war of words with my superior.
Well, I wouldn't call her my superior exac...
Excuse me?
Could I just give him my order while you're reminiscing?
I'll even pay for your coffee,
if you just let me go ahead of you.
Be my guest.
Sorry. It's just I'm late, it's my first day at my new job.
Well, at least you're employed.
Aspen "skinny" vanilla latte.
Instead of just sitting over there
staring off into cyberspace.
He'll have a steamboat americano.
What is that?
Large black coffee.
Ah!
Most of those people actually are employed.
They're just working from home.
Theoretically.
And someone pays them? Theoretically?
Aspen skinny vanilla latte...
And a steamboat americano.
Gotta go. Keep the change.
Thanks.
There it is...
A beacon of hope to those who still put their faith
in the power of a piece of paper
and a 46-cent stamp.
And behind every letter
stand thousands of dedicated heroes,
who still fight the good fight through rain and snow
and fiscal cliffs
to deliver every note, every card, every letter.
Morning, Norman.
Morning, Oliver.
And I am one of them...
The few... The proud...
The postal.
I work for you, whoever you are,
or whoever you were.
I told you, this is a mistake.
I'm supposed to be assigned to direct line operations
as a technical systems consultant.
It says right here that you are D.L.O.
Yeah. "Direct line operations."
That's what Washington is now calling
computer-managed delivery services.
Well, we're still calling it the "dead letter office."
Look, if you just call the PG's office...
- ... in Washington and... - That's a good idea.
I'll call the postmaster general
right after I return that call from the Secretary of Defense.
Okay. This is ridiculous.
I don't belong here.
You wait right here.
Oliver!
I want you to train this girl.
She's a computer-something from Washington.
- No. - I will fire you.
I have a government service pay level
higher than you can count.
I will take away your refrigerator.
You will return my Mr. Coffee.
- Done. - Send her in.
Mclnerney!
It's you.
Mr. Steamboat. Incredible.
You know each other?
Theoretically.
Rita, Norman... our ranks have been increased.
This is...
This is... ?
Is?
I'm Shane Mclnerney.
I can't work with someone named Shane.
Norman?
Tell her why.
I got it. Because, uh, at some point,
you, Shane, will walk away,
and Oliver will need you to... return?
Very good, go on.
And Oliver will be forced to say...
"Shane! Come back, Shane!"
At which point, you will look at me
with much the same vacancy with which you stare at me now,
utterly unaware
of the unfortunate cinematic reference.
Therefore, I shall call you...
Tsk...
"Sheryl."
Sheryl?
Well... I'm just here temporarily...
And how wise of you
to realize such a great truth so early on in life.
What I mean is, there's been a mistake.
A merry mix-up, perhaps.
A mistake? Well, we shall see.
Rita, please file this in a safe place.
A photographic memory is a plus in this business.
I believe there are no coincidences, Ms. Mclnerney.
Coincidence is the middle name of the almighty.
You did that?
No. But it is a standard to which we aspire,
and, one day, we, too, shall join
the pantheon of postal excellence. Hmm?
Every letter
that passes through the United States postal system
represents an act of faith.
Faith that it will reach its destination
on time and in good condition.
Faith that what was written by the writer
shall remain private until read by the... ?
Write-ee?
This is a sacred covenant
that, if broken, signals what?
Norman?
"The breakdown of civilization and the beginning of anarchy."
This is why we attempt to ascertain the correct address
using clues on the outside of the envelope
until we have no other choice.
And it is that moment when we decide
to open the letter.
We do it reverently, respectfully,
much like a medical student performing a first autopsy.
Oh, God help me.
We read only as far as we must,
gleaning and gathering clues as to the correct destination.
This...
Is a high calling, indeed, Sheryl.
Shane. It's Shane.
Now it's time for some real work.
Ah. First name intact.
Thomas.
P-e-r... something.
Uh, card has been ripped by...
Canine.
Seattle postmark.
Not a birthday card.
Not a sympathy card.
I'm guessing...
"Thinking of you."
Alright...
We're going in.
Mclnerney.
Guess what?
There is something in the system called direct line operations.
- I know. - But it's not here...
It's in northglenn.
Great! I'm on my way.
Nah. Not so fast, missy.
You gotta apply for reassignment
and keep working here for six weeks
before we approve you for transfer.
Transfer?
You're joking... right?
Hard to believe she was once
"miss special delivery" of 1999, hmm?
Shall we continue?
"Let's catch up.
Dropped by 'Curios' yesterday, but you were on a break, so... "
Norman?
"Curios." I'm on it.
You guys do know
that we are in the 21st century, right?
Better look at "antique stores"
and "gift shops" as well.
No, I've got this. Googling "Curios, Seattle."
Curios antiques.
Proprietor: Thomas Perkins.
"P-e-r."
That's impressive.
Child's play.
Thank you, Rita.
Moving on.
So, what, you just reach in and grab one?
There's no system? No protocol?
Well, as I said, there's
something divine at work here, Ms. Mclnerney.
We do not find the letters that must be found today.
They find us.
And you really believe that?
Take today, for example.
Of all the coffee shops
in all the towns in all the world...
- You walked into mine. - Yes! And just as
everything in the dead letter office
was originally intended for someplace else,
and yet, for some providential reason,
they have been misdirected.
Temporarily, of course.
Not unlike you.
- But I... - Shh...
It's happening.
Norman, get your pencil, please.
Addressed to "Charlie," no surname.
Reply reads simply,
"Kelly from Washington Park."
Mm. 45-cent bicycle commemorative.
I used to ride bikes in Washington Park all the time!
There's a funny little man there
named "Stumpy," he rents schwinns.
So a sentimental stamp choice, then?
Yes.
She enclosed something here.
Norman, a consult, please?
Ah. Yeah. Well, the handwriting indicates
a female in her 20s.
Usually confident,
recently troubled,
indicated by bold figures,
tempered with tentative strokes.
A letter written in a hurry.
"June 26th.
Dear Charlie... "
Postmark's may 22nd.
This letter's almost a year old.
It never entered the system.
Until a week ago?
A floater.
- We have a floater! - "Dear Charlie...
I wanted to be sure you got your button back.
And I wanted to explain about last night."
Oh, dear.
Another one of those "I can explain everything" apologetics,
replete with the return of an article of clothing.
These letters are usually accompanied by
liberal references to jell-o shots and Tequila.
Well, so much for divine intervention.
"Dear Charlie,
I wanted to be sure you got your button back.
I wanted to explain about last night.
Walking away... "
Oh, good heavens.
"Walking away and leaving you standing in the park
was the hardest thing I've ever done,
except to tell you what I'm going to say next.
I had to leave
"because I couldn't let you
watch me die."
Norman...
I think I'm gonna need another Yoo-hoo.
What is that?
Yoo-hoo.
He hardly ever has two before noon.
I once met the president of the Yoo-hoo company
on a bus trip to Mexico.
Okay. Now where were we?
Um, "I had to leave
because I couldn't let you watch me die."
Uh... oh, yes. Here we are.
"The truth is, I'm sick... "
"...I'm really sick, Charlie,
and for the longest time,
all I've been thinking about is just trying to stay alive.
And then, yesterday,
I stepped into that elevator, and there you were."
Sorry. We're going up.
Looks like all the way.
Oh, well. Doesn't really matter.
It's a nice ride, though.
You get to stop at all the best floors.
Well, not all the best floors.
Charlie, is that you back there?
Good morning, Mr. Cameron.
You get my cinnamon cruller?
Uh, yes, sir.
And the Colombian supremo,
not that junk from Ecuador you got yesterday?
Mm-hmm.
You know, you're never gonna make it
in mergers and acquisitions
if you can't even take a decent coffee order, pal.
Colombian. I got it.
Make sure it's up on the 17th by the time I get there.
Oh... And, uh, Charlie?
Try not to screw up like you usually do.
Okay? I'm meeting that new vp today,
and I hear she likes her donuts.
I bet she's a pig, huh?
Actually, I like bagels,
but, um, I can buy them for myself, right, Charlie?
Did you see the look on his face?
So you're the new vice-president?
Uh, pfft, no. Do I look like a vice-president?
No, you look beautiful.
I, um...
Uh, I mean, you look... You look great.
Well, I hope I don't get you in trouble.
I just couldn't resist.
You actually work for that jerk?
Yeah, and three more just like him.
Sorry to hear that.
Yeah, well, you learn something from everybody,
even if it's what not to do.
That's a great attitude.
Want a doughnut?
Thanks, but I actually do prefer bagels.
I'm supposed to stay off sugar while I'm...
Ooh. Ah, 17.
Thanks again.
That's the best laugh I've had all week.
Maybe all month. Maybe all year.
Uh, Charlie?
You deserve better.
Life is short.
Yeah, but, uh, sometimes, the days are really long.
Oh! Hey. What's your name?
Kelly!
A nice Irish name, Kelly with a "y."
And correctly spelled. Look at that.
Why do parents insist on being unnecessarily creative these days?
"Kelli" with an "i", "Kellie" with "i-e", "Kellye" with "y-e".
So he just left her in the elevator?
Uh, yes.
Hey!
- Hi. - Kelly.
Going down?
All the way. I just quit.
Whoo! Free at last! Free at last!
Was it really that bad?
Ah! It was so bad,
I told myself this morning
if a beautiful girl doesn't walk into this elevator
and rescue me, I am riding all the way to the top
and I am jumping off. Doughnuts, coffee and all.
Colombian coffee, I hope.
Absolutely.
Well, congratulations.
I hope you find another job that you like.
That's tomorrow.
Today, I am taking you out for a bagel.
Oh, I don't know.
What? You gotta work?
Well, no, but...
Well, come on!
You just saved a man's life.
In some cultures,
that makes me responsible for you.
Actually, I think it's the other way around.
Even better. How can you say "no" now?
But I didn't save your life.
It takes a lot more than that to save a life.
Are you kidding me?
If it wasn't for you, I'd be still up there,
handing out crullers to Miller, Miller, Miller, and Schwartz.
Well, not Schwartz. He's glucose-intolerant.
"The truth is, Charlie,
"I don't know who saved whose life that day.
You may have saved mine. I won't know for awhile... "
"... For awhile, but I'll always cherish
the day you quit Miller, Miller, Miller, and Schwartz... "
There you go.
What are you doing?
Keep going.
Oh, there's no need.
"Miller, Miller, Miller, and Schwartz." Rita?
Oh! Mergers and acquisitions.
The Colorado bank building. 9424 Lincoln Street.
We send their human relations office a form 407B,
requesting the names of terminations
on June 26th of last year
with the first name "Charles" or "Charlie."
What about Kelly?
What is she dying of? Is she going to live?
Reading any further than necessary
violates the prime directive.
You've got to be kidding!
He's not kidding.
We don't kid. We're not kidders.
You know darn well it'll take weeks before some drone in hr
pulls out a bunch of old employment records
to help out the U.S. post office.
Meanwhile, Charlie is out there somewhere,
wondering why the girl of his dreams blew him off
when they were so obviously falling in love.
There is nothing in here that indicates they were in love.
Everything in that letter so far
indicates that they were falling in love!
Right, Rita?
Oh, I-I-I...
I've never actually been in...
Not when the...
Not when the other person was in it at the same time, so...
I, uh, read a book once
on chemical changes in baboons,
suggesting that apes experience certain emotional
connections similar to human love.
Thank you.
Why don't you bring that in tomorrow?
Okay.
Look, if-if there's a chance
that reading one more line could give us a truly solid shot
at redirecting that letter to poor Charlie, then...
Then don't we owe it to him?
And to Kelly?
I mean, "of all the elevators
in all the towns in all the world... "
"We?"
You mean "us," Ms. Mclnerney?
Or could it be that you've already taken
our little enterprise into your heart?
That's very touching, but the answer is no.
Ahem.
I've heard of cop bars and sports bars and mafia bars.
Never been to a postal bar.
Everyone needs a place
to decompress with their peers.
Actually, uh, these are not my peers,
but they are clearly yours,
and I thought you might enjoy it here.
Aren't you a charmer?
Hey, Shane!
Hey, you spell Mclnerney with an M-C, right?
Uh, yeah.
Ohh!
Excellent. I have a surprise for you.
Rita is a connoisseur of the carefully-crafted daiquiri.
Barkeep, a gin rickey, please? Hold the rickey.
Make that two. Oh! Do you have wings?
Miller, Miller, Miller, and Schwartz were sued for fraud
and went out of business six months ago.
Well, so much for our only lead.
I don't know, you could've just let me look this Charlie guy up
and it would've taken me 30 seconds.
This is not a race we run, Ms. Mclnerney.
It is a journey.
It is a job, Oliver!
You deliver one letter, and the next day,
there are a hundred more to take its place.
It's a losing battle, an exercise in futility.
It's not some woo-woo spiritual journey.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
It's not Horatio, it's Sheryl.
It's Shane!
It's Shakespeare, peasants.
You may lack a sense of destiny,
but you have one characteristic that, if carefully cultivated,
could be helpful.
It's something I like to call curiosity.
Mm.
You wanted to know why we're here?
I can explain.
Okay, I can't explain,
but I can tell you that I didn't read it,
so, technically...
Unauthorized removal is a cross violation, regulation 67K.
Yes, it is.
But in this case... a convenient one.
What?
I thought you never broke the rules.
Apparently, we have you to do that for us.
I, however, on occasion, must bend the law
in order to fulfill the spirit of the law.
Norman, please retrieve Rita. She won't want to miss this.
Nuts?
Thank you.
For what?
For outing me here and not back at the office,
in front of Andrea.
I prefer to do as little as possible
in front of Andrea.
Welcome, Rita.
I assume you remember where we left off?
"I'll always cherish the memory of... "
- "That day... " - Oh, here it is.
"... when we met
and tried so hard not to fall in love."
There's an art to the perfect
bagel and lox combo.
Okay.
You got your onions, tomatoes, cream cheese,
all your major food groups.
You eat one of these, you're good for the day?
Oh, yeah.
And these are... ?
Ah. Capers. The key to the whole enterprise.
Ah! Uh-oh.
The secret is,
you sort of...
Glue the caper into the cheese,
that way, they don't roll off.
And then the salmon,
then the tomato...
And the onion.
And...
You've... You've got some...
Right...
There.
Great nose, by the way.
People probably tell you that a lot, right?
Your boyfriend, probably.
You know, forget that.
That's... that's too much information for a first date.
This is a... date, right?
Sort of?
I have a proposition.
Yes.
Whatever it is...
Yes.
So, no last names?
Right.
No emails, no phone numbers, no texting?
No tweets.
We just spend one day together,
say whatever we want to say
with no fear, no judgment,
because we won't see each other again.
Yeah, see,
that's the part I'm having trouble with.
Well, think about it.
I mean, one day
when you don't have to worry about
what you do or say will affect tomorrow.
We're just living...
Right now,
today.
Is this part of your "life is short" philosophy?
Are you in or out?
No texting, no tweeting... A girl after my own heart.
What about Charlie? Is he in or is he out?
Well, from the length of this letter,
I assume he bought into the unorthodox plan,
but if the last pages yield as few clues
as the first pages,
we're gonna be hard-pressed to find the writer.
Or the writee.
- I've got an idea. - Oh, happy day.
In the letter, it says that they went to a park together, right?
"Kelly, from Washington Park." Yeah.
I have a proposition.
No.
Whatever it is, no.
She used a bicycle stamp,
and you said that she was sentimental, right?
I bet they went to that park and rented bikes
from Rita's little old man.
- Schwinns. - Schwinns!
Oh! Schwinns.
I propose... We go to the park tomorrow,
on our lunch break, and talk to him.
This is...
Highly irregular.
We're looking for clues in a love letter
that aren't all going to be in the letter.
Yeah, and some of us could really use some fresh air.
Yeah, Oliver!
Are you in or are you out?
Oh. Oh, no.
I can't believe this.
He used to sit right here and now he's been replaced by...
By this.
Another dreadful example of unnecessary automation.
Well, shall we continue?
Read on, macduff.
Shakespeare.
"I know I gave you a pretty crazy reason
for only spending one day together, Charlie... "
"But the truth is, I only had one day to spend.
But spending it with you made all the difference."
Oh! I wasn't done yet.
When I was in sixth grade,
I used to cross this bridge every day
on the way to school.
Hey, careful. No historical details.
I know, I know.
But you see this creek?
All the kids would swing across
on that rope
instead of taking the bridge.
But you took the bridge?
I tried to swing across at first.
I'd grab the rope, but...
Something always made me put on the brakes
at the last second.
God, it was embarrassing.
All the kids would be on the other side,
yelling, "come on, Charlie! You can do it."
But?
But I never did.
After awhile, they stopped expecting me to even try.
So do it today.
What?
Swing! What are you waiting for?
Ditch your pride.
Okay.
You wait here.
And don't distract me.
- Alright. - And no cameras.
Hey, you may want a record of this someday.
Someday?
Now, if there's a chance we could have a "someday,"
that's worth risking my life for.
Or my pride.
Three! Two! One...
- Ahh! - Yes!
Whoo!
Yes! Whoo!
- Yeah! - Oof!
- Are you alright? - Yeah, I'm good.
Sorry!
Yes!
Whoo! That was amazing!
- Are you okay? - Did you see that? Yeah!
Pride goes before a fall, I guess.
You lost a button, though.
A small sacrifice
for the leap of a lifetime.
Well, you were awfully nice to that guy,
considering he knocked you down.
Well, life is short.
That was so fun!
Ah! Whoo!
"I think that was the moment
I realized how much I wanted to live.
How much I needed to believe in a "someday" with you in it.
Maybe that's how it feels to fall in love, Charlie...
When you can't wait for tomorrow."
I just want to take a couple of pictures.
It's so pretty here.
Go for it.
So, am I ever gonna see any of these pictures?
I mean, if we're not gonna see each other again,
you could at least upload them
to the Charlie-and-Kelly website.
Oh, now you want me to break the rule?
Why do you like taking pictures?
Uh, let me see.
Well, um...
I know, in some cultures,
people think taking a photograph of something
is like stealing a piece of its soul.
But for me,
taking a picture of someone or something is a way to...
I don't know... To honor a soul.
It's my way of saying,
"here you are, tree...
Here you are, sky...
Here you are, Charlie."
And... For just a moment
I get to stop time and really see you.
What? What are you thinking?
I'm just reading this article here
about "Roger Piperson, age 61,"
a baker who won the lottery last week.
I bet everybody thinks
he's the luckiest guy in the world.
And yesterday, I would have, too.
But today,
I think the luckiest guy in the world
is me.
Click.
Uh, on the other side of this park,
there is an exact replica of Martha Washington's garden
at Mount Vernon, Virginia.
I'm a direct descendant of George Washington's accountant.
I don't see the purpose in continuing this field trip.
Just a little bit longer, Oliver, please?
Just read a little bit more.
There's got to be something in that letter that will help us
if we put ourselves in Charlie and Kelly's place.
I am not going to swing across the creek.
Fine.
And tomorrow, everything goes back to normal.
Mm-hmm. If that's what you consider normal.
"I wanted to tell you everything
right then, Charlie... "
But I didn't want to break the spell."
"I've always been good at putting off the hard stuff."
I think we ought to do something.
Something to commemorate this day.
Something that makes a difference.
We could get married.
Tempting, but I don't marry on the first date.
Good point.
Alright. Uh...
Let's see.
I got it!
You saved my life today.
Let's save some more.
You want to give blood?
Yeah. They give you cookies,
and you get to lie down, and it's free.
I don't really give blood anymore, so.
Come on! They do it once a year here in the park
and it makes you feel great.
You won't swing across a creek, but needles are no problem?
I know. Go figure.
I used to do it all the time in college.
I think I still have my old donor card...
What's the matter?
Oh, man. I think I, uh...
I think I lost my wallet.
I can't believe you lost your job and your wallet on the same day.
Found your button, though.
To be accurate, I quit my job.
I did lose my wallet,
but I found the girl of my dreams,
so I think it all balances out.
Except...
When I wake up tomorrow morning
and realize that I lost the girl.
I'm sorry, Charlie, it just...
It has to be this way.
Promise me...
You'll go home tonight,
and you'll sew this button back on your blazer
and you'll find yourself the job of your dreams
and you'll meet somebody wonderful
and have lots of babies and grandchildren,
and make dozens of paper boats for them
every time you take them for walks in the park,
and when you set them sailing,
you'll think of me.
Or you could come by tomorrow and sew the button on yourself.
Are you trying to tell me you can't sew?
I don't think I could do anything without you now, Kelly.
One more thing.
Okay? Just one more.
If you swing really high...
Over the trees...
You see the big apartment building?
I see it.
Okay, now look to the right.
You see the rooftops?
You see 'em?
- Yep! - Okay.
Now look for a blue gate with a flag above it.
Yes! There it is. I saw it.
That's me. The blue gate.
That's where I live.
Char... You're breaking the rule!
Yeah, well, you're breaking my heart.
Come on, promise me that tomorrow morning
I'm gonna wake up, and you'll be sitting on my front steps.
Charlie, I...
You're not comin' down until you do!
Higher!
- There it is! - What? The blue gate?
Yeah! The blue gate.
Let's go.
Wait!
Did Kelly go?
Did she show up tomorrow... Last year?
It's not up to us to decide what...
"And then even though I wanted to come back
and find you there,
waiting for me on the steps by the blue gate,
I couldn't."
Ohh. That's very disappointing.
"But I can explain.
With all my talk about courage,
you were the one who took the big leap yesterday
and now it's my turn.
I'm going to do what I have to do to get myself well.
If it works,
let's meet a year from today,
on the 26th, and we'll go on a second date.
But if I'm not there waiting for you at the bridge at 6:00,
you'll know it's only because the leap I had to make
was just too far.
Whatever happens, Charlie,
sew this button on and go out into the world.
And if you ever want to spend that day with me again,
just remember how it started.
Just remember... Life is short.
Love, Kelly."
Oh, man! What's today?
The 23rd. Oh, wow...
Charlie has no idea they're supposed to meet in three days.
That's assuming she took the leap...
Made it to the other side.
Well, I don't see another house on this block
with a blue gate and a flag.
Who's gonna knock?
There will be no knocking.
We have the address now,
so we go back to the office,
follow procedure,
before we get into trouble.
Seriously, we're here, let's just go and...
That's unacceptable, Ms. Mclnerney.
Besides, I thought you would welcome
the opportunity to show us
what that fancy laptop of yours can do.
Here's the door...
Ah! There's the blue gate.
Cool!
Last-known occupant Charles...
- Charlie Riggs. - Charlie.
So I guess we can't, uh,
write "good luck" on the back of it, huh?
We re-address it and re-package it
with a form explaining
why the letter was opened in the first place.
Wait. You're gonna mail it?
We've pushed the limits of protocol enough already.
No, no, no. They only have three days!
Are you questioning the efficiency of this facility?
Well, if the envelope fits!
Okay, what if, by some
incomprehensible twist of fate,
it takes the U.S. post office more than three days
to deliver a simple letter?
And, in the meantime, Kelly shows up...
And she waits...
And waits...
And she waits,
but he never comes,
and so she's standing there,
on the bridge,
alone,
wondering how he could just leave her there,
after she said she loves him so much?
I admire your passion, Ms. Mclnerney,
but our job is to simply revive a dead letter
and send it along.
And, yes, there are times when we wonder
what will become of those who receive them,
but we are the United States post office.
We cannot play God.
You said you don't believe in coincidences.
What if you had pulled a green envelope out of there,
instead of that pink one?
Then Charlie and Kelly would never have had a chance.
But now they do.
You're impeccable at your job, Oliver.
But what about your job as a fellow human being
who's been given the opportunity to change someone's life?
We may never know the whole truth about a letter
or what happens to it once it leaves us,
Ms. Mclnerney,
but I believe absolutely
that what we do here does makes a difference.
It is our responsibility
to glean the truth from a lost letter,
and tomorrow, because we have done our work well,
that truth will be delivered to Mr. Riggs...
A year late, or, hopefully, right on time.
But it's not up to us anymore.
Oliver... Oliver, please.
Norman!
Where's Oliver?
Uh, on the floor.
I was just on the floor. He's not there.
On the floor somewhere else maybe?
Get those processed before the decade's out, will ya?
Hey! Fancy-pants.
The transfer you put in for?
It's gonna take 10 weeks.
10 weeks?
I can't believe this.
Hey! You remember
that surprise that I was telling you about?
The last 24 hours have been nothing but surprises,
but please, go on.
Well, I knew
that I had seen your name somewhere,
and it was on a letter, a dead letter
that was entered into the system
14 months ago, on April 28th,
which is two days before your birthday.
How did you know that?
Because I read your file, remember?
So it's gotta be a birthday card.
Where is it?
I mailed it to you.
You mailed it? I work here.
You could've just handed it to me.
Standard procedure, Ms. Mclnerney.
Procedure? Right.
It was my birthday card from...
Who was it from?
Oh. "Return address obscured."
So where did you mail it?
To here. Care of dead letters.
You people are crazy.
A popular theory. Coffee?
Your coffee is swill
and I'm wasting my time here.
The coffee, I grant you, needs improvement,
but I take exception to the idea
that your time here is wasted.
My time, my career, my life!
I understand. You're upset.
I'm upset? You think?
See if you can understand this...
I quit.
Shane?
Come back, Shane!
Oh, dear.
Uh...
Well, there it is.
I believe I've accrued a bit of vacation time,
13 weeks,
6 days.
I may take a few minutes of those now.
That is so sweet.
- What? - He's going after her.
Going after her what?
Really?
Gave you 15 minutes to walk to the park,
factored in another 10 for aimless wandering,
which gave me 25 minutes
to order your skinny vanilla latte
and deliver it, still hot, by the time you showed up.
So you think I am that predictable, hmm?
No. I think you're that invested in your work,
and an employee with that much commitment
should not be allowed to self-terminate,
or drink sub-standard swill, for that matter.
Thank you.
My pleasure.
Shouldn't be long now.
Mailman's around the corner.
Just think.
In five minutes,
he could be opening up a letter,
and finding out that he has
a date on Friday
with the love of his life.
Or perhaps he has since met
a waitress from olive garden,
and is expecting twins,
and taken up work
as a grouter of bathroom tile.
Mm-mm, no. Not a chance. Not our Charlie.
Oh.
Mm. There it is.
Once again, civilization prevails.
Wait, wait. Don't you want to see him...
Open it...
Who is that?
Wait...
What is she doing?
Uh... excuse me!
Miss mc...
Uh, excuse me!
Hi! Uh... ma'am?
Uh, excuse me? Um... hello.
I am from the United States postal service.
I'm a direct line operations systems consultant,
and I am conducting a...
Mail investigation.
I don't get it.
You just removed that envelope from the mailbox.
So? You don't have to make a federal case out of it.
Actually, mail theft is a federal case, ma'am.
I'm not stealing it.
I'm returning it.
Charlie Riggs has been gone for a year,
and I don't think he's coming back.
I'm going to have to confiscate this.
Confiscate away, honey.
Thank you.
What?
What are you doing with that letter? You can't just...
Read it.
What do you mean he's in jail?
I mean his neighbor wrote "not at this address. In jail."
On the envelope.
You intercepted the letter at the point of delivery?
Yep. Although 25 minutes earlier...
She had tendered her resignation,
so, technically, she had yet to be reinstated
as a government servant.
It's sheer luck I was there in time to intercept it.
Luck is the religion of the lazy.
Guess what? I found it. I stopped it just in time.
Your card.
It's from your dad, right?
And the handwriting is male, late 40s, early 50s.
Aren't you going to open it?
Maybe later.
Gotta find Charlie Riggs first.
Charlie? Kelly's Charlie?
Yeah, Charlie-in-jail- for-something Charlie.
Knew there was something fishy about that guy.
Shh! I'm googling.
But "Charlie Riggs" is such a nice name.
- Oh, my God! - What?
Do you remember the Baker Roger Piperson,
who won the lottery?
He's "the luckiest man in the world."
Roger Piperson was murdered...
By a man named Charlie Riggs.
It's impossible.
Wait! I remember.
I read an article about the baker in Park Hill.
He was going to give away all of his lottery money
to an orphanage in Loreto Heights, where he grew up.
They said that he was a real self-made man.
He used to give cookies
to the kids every day after school.
But then Charlie...
Not Charlie.
Right!
Someone, somebody, went into the bakery,
shot the baker, and...
And what?
I stopped reading.
It was just too sad.
Well, I don't believe it.
Not our Charlie.
He's not "our Charlie."
And if it's true,
then perhaps Kelly made the right decision
when she decided to walk away.
I can't believe you just said that.
I know you want these two to be happy...
No. Wait. Here it is.
Detective Arthur Kimsey of the Criminal Investigation Unit
said it was the shortest murder investigation
in his 12 years on the force."
We just went to his house
and waited for him to come home."
According to Detective Kimsey,
Riggs was easily apprehended
because he not only matched
the description of the alleged gunman,
but also because,
in his haste to escape the scene,
he dropped his wallet and identification behind.
Oh, no. It is our Charlie.
Ah, he's not bad-lookin'.
"Riggs was taken into custody and charged
with second-degree murder
during the commission of an armed robbery.
He's pleaded "not guilty"
and remains incarcerated without bail,
and is awaiting trial."
Well...
There it is.
Kelly didn't say anything in her letter about him being clumsy.
Or homicidal.
Wait. What date was that?
Last year. I think this month...
Oh... wow.
Oliver. It happened a year ago on the 26th.
I need a Yoo-hoo.
What's going on?
Norman, don't you get it?
Charlie was with Kelly that day,
all day, and he dropped his wallet,
so whoever picked it up probably shot the Baker.
He's a lot taller than I thought he would be.
I was in a jail once.
I was visiting a cousin
who was doing 10 days in quartzville, Arizona...
- ... for tipping cows. - Norman, please stop talking...
And I mean it from the very bottom of my heart, okay?
"Riggs faces life in lottery-winner shooting."
Oh, my gosh! He goes to trial next week.
What are we going to do?
We're going to re-address the letter
to Charlie, care of the county jail.
That's it? He needs our help!
Well, clearly, he needs someone's help,
like his lawyer, for example,
but the U.S. postal system
is not in the habit of defending murderers.
He's not a murderer!
That's right, and we know that, so we need to do something.
Well, the truth is, we don't know anything
- beyond what's in the letter. - Voilà !
What is this?
This is Jerry Polevich, Charlie's public defender,
and he happens to be on a dating website.
"Jerry Polevich, age 47.
Education: Degree in law from the north Denver valley college.
Religion: None.
Languages: 'What's wrong with English?'
Status: Divorced."
There's no surprise there, is there?
Likes: Golf, cooking, golf, eating, golf,
barbecuing, golf
and anything from the mile-high deli.
Life's ambition: To quit the law
and buy the bunker-shot grill at pinecobble country club."
That's quite enough "googling," Ms. Mclnerney.
I'm calling the receptionist
so I can set up a meeting to sit down face-to...
Polevich.
Jerry Polevich?
Jerry Polevich, Esquire?
If personal injury's your plan, Polevich is your man.
Uh, I will keep that in mind, sir,
but I'm not calling to solicit your services.
I am calling from the main post office down...
Ah! Great! You found 'em!
I don't know how you guys could manage to lose
60 pounds of mail-order steak on dry ice.
The United States post office does not "lose" things, sir.
Look, if-if you don't wanna sue anybody,
you don't got my steak,
what do ya want?
Well, I'm calling with information
- about the man who killed... - Allegedly!
Allegedly killed Roger Piperson.
Who?
Charles Riggs.
You are his public defender, are you not?
Charles Riggs? Well, then who's Roger Piperson?
The Baker!
Who was unfortunately dispatched... last year.
Oh, right, right, right, right. The Piperson bakery.
Oh! I loved that bakery!
I haven't had a decent bearclaw since.
What about him?
Well, I have proof...
A letter detailing Charles Riggs' activities
the day the Baker was dispatched
which proves his innocence incontroverti...
Look, look, pal. Anybody can write a letter.
Do you got any pictures? Video?
No.
Well, that's what I'm gonna need.
You get me my visuals and my 60 pounds of steak,
then we'll talk.
You still wanna do nothing, Oliver?
You wanna leave it up to the crack legal mind
of a man who buys his meat through the mail?
No, of course not, but we have no alternative.
Wrong.
The other day, you said that we are responsible
for what little truth we have.
Well, the truth is,
Charlie Riggs is innocent and we can prove it.
- Possibly. - Possibly? Probably!
And we have a moral obligation
to at least try.
What are you proposing?
We know Polevich won't do anything with the letter, right?
But if we deliver the letter to Charlie in person,
maybe he can tell us something that we can do to help him.
Charlie needs this letter.
He needs to keep that date with Kelly
and he needs a friend.
I know it's risky, but...
Sometimes, you just have to take the leap.
- It's a compelling proposition. - Look...
With my computer skills, Rita's memory,
your genius as a postal detective,
and Norman's expertise at... so many things...
Think of us as a...
Covert division of postal intelligence.
Like secret agents?
I once applied to the C.I.A.
Me too! I didn't get in.
There's also the problem of Andrea, of course.
She'll want to know what we're up to.
Well, we simply tell her that we are fact-gathering
to ensure the delivery of letters
that require special handling.
She could confiscate my refrigerator.
We'll be flying under the radar.
"Postal intelligence."
I suppose we are that...
Already.
Except now we would have...
Well, we would have a license to...
- To deliver! - Yes!
A license to deliver.
Alright, let's do final checks.
Uh, trench coat?
Check.
- Laptop? - Check.
Gas in the jag?
Check.
We're taking that?
V-12 XJS.
Nobody who works for the government
drives a car like that except James Bond.
I'll take that as a compliment.
Oh! She's coming!
Go. Go!
Where's Oliver?
Good morning, Andrea.
Norman?
What in the name of Paul revere are you doing?
Sorting. Forwarding. The usual.
Tell Oliver I want him in the department meeting. Pronto.
Oh, Oliver actually went home.
He got hold of a bad piece of... fish last night.
Then send that other one.
Well, that could be a problem.
Same dinner.
Same fish.
I want one of them in that department meeting,
and nobody goes home sick unless I send them home sick!
When she was "miss special delivery,"
she sang "climb every mountain" for her talent section.
Life can take a toll on a woman without love, Norman.
Hi there.
We have an attorney/client consultation
with prisoner Charles Riggs.
- I.D.? - Yes.
Here you are.
I don't see your names on today's list.
Oh? Uh... What list is that?
Client-counsel appointment roster.
Ah! The client-counsel appointment roster?
I put our names on that yesterday.
You would have had to have done that last Thursday.
That's what I meant.
I put our names on that on Thursday.
For today.
Thursday.
That was a lovely day, wasn't it?
Mm! Gorgeous.
Virtually cloudless.
Beautiful.
Yeah, would you mind checking again?
Okay. There you are, but
I don't see you as the attorney-of-record.
Oh! You are, of course, referring to Jerry Polevich.
A fine fellow.
Always been pleased with his work.
Sadly, however,
he was placed on administrative leave
after inhaling a few too many mile-high pastrami platters.
I understand, I understand.
Well, Jerry does like his deli, that's for sure.
Yes, he does.
- Thank you. - Thank you.
- Do I know you? - No, Charlie, you don't,
but we're here to help you.
Finally. You're from the state legal assistance office, right?
Actually, we're from the U.S. post office.
I knew something was wrong.
I knew she would've come forward if she could've.
Everybody thought I made her up,
but now I've got proof.
Only proof that she loved you, I'm afraid.
And I'm afraid you can't prove anything else
about that day without her and the pictures she took.
All you need is one photo with Kelly from that day.
Maybe one with the bloodmobile that only happens once a y...
Once a year in the park! That'd be perfect.
Now, on the 26th...
On the 26th, I'll still be here.
Then we'll go for you.
We'll keep that date on the bridge.
We'll meet Kelly and we'll get the pictures
and we'll let you know as soon as we get them.
I just want to know if she's okay.
I wish I knew what was wrong with her.
We could make some...
Discreet inquiries.
Is there anything else you can tell us about her
that wasn't in that letter?
Well, I remember when she got on the elevator,
she had these beautiful eyes.
Charlie, do you remember
what floor she got on in the elevator?
I... I think it was the third floor.
That was the Colorado bank building, right?
Yeah, I think. Why?
Just give me a second.
Okay, here it is. Suite 305.
Western states research systems.
"A state-of-the-art medical research company
specializing in the experimental treatment
of blood-related disorders.
Specifically... "
"Hodgkin's disease."
Oh, my God.
Check to see if any patients named Kelly
participated in an experimental treatment last year.
I'm on it.
I tried to look her up online, but...
I even looked for a Charlie-and-Kelly website.
Okay. I'm in.
June 26th, last year,
they finalized their control group
of 40 patients with stage-3B Hodgkin's lymphoma
and started double-blind trials the next day,
so they used only first names.
Jack, age 30.
Jason, age 29.
Kelly, age 23. That's got to be her, right?
Okay, let's see how she's doing.
What's the matter?
"The six-month clinical trial commencing June 27th
failed to produce positive outcomes
in 100% of the subjects.
As of this date,
no patients survived treatment."
I, uh...
I don't know what that means.
Charlie...
It means she's gone.
I'm so sorry, Charlie.
What are we gonna do now?
The pictures have to be out there somewhere.
We didn't try hard enough.
- We could have... - No.
We tried, we did our best. Now,
we have to do what we know how to do
and let Charlie grieve for Kelly.
And fight for his life.
Gotten over the bad fish, I see.
Yeah!
It's a miracle.
Forgive me for not keeping you in the loop, Andrea.
Yeah.
I really missed being in your loop.
Too bad you weren't in mine.
You didn't go to the meeting.
And I regret that. It won't happen again.
You're darn right it won't happen again,
'cause there ain't gonna be another department meeting.
Ever.
Beg your pardon?
They're shutting the place down.
Yeah.
This lousy, smelly office has...
What did they say?
"Lost its viability."
The dead letter office is... dead?
This time next month,
you all will be selling stamps
and sorting catalogs in pueblo.
You wanted a transfer?
You're gonna get one, missy.
How's that for being in the loop?
Today was a very bad day.
I thought we were a pretty good team,
holding down the fort.
Hey, Norman, do you wanna dance?
Uh... could we play shuffleboard instead?
Okay.
She has a terrible crush on him.
You know that, right?
That's very insightful,
considering she absolutely terrifies him.
Yeah, well, love is funny.
Odd, perhaps.
But funny?
Rarely.
Oh, look.
Drinks are here, finally.
To, um...
To the dead letter office...
The last hope of the written word.
I went on a pilgrimage
to the national postal museum
two years ago.
It was glorious.
I can't say that I ever went.
I got lost in it.
Did you go alone?
No.
Well, sort of.
I took my wife.
A lovely person whose interests
extended far beyond the written word to, shall we say...
The somewhat decadent.
We were standing in front of the pony express exhibit.
I turned around,
she wasn't there anymore.
I looked everywhere for her.
I finally gave up.
I went back to the holiday inn express
and, um, waited for her.
She never came.
I was just about to call the police
when I noticed
that little red light blinking on the phone.
She left this message.
She said that she was tired
of being married to a government official,
and she figured, since she was in Washington, DC,
it was the closest she had ever been to Paris,
so she was getting on a plane and moving to France.
I'm so sorry, Oliver.
Did she ever come back?
Not yet.
The last thing she said on her message was,
"I'll send you my forwarding address.
Au revoir."
Actually, she pronounced it
"or rev-or."
But I assume her accent's much improved by now.
Don't you think you've waited for her long enough?
I believe in keeping promises.
I am, after all, a gentleman.
That you are.
Oliver?
Would you like to dance?
Have you ever thought about just going to Paris?
Sadly, I lack the proper luggage.
Or you could just give me her name
and I'll look her up in 10 seconds,
and then you'd finally know.
I suppose I would.
You know, I bet that's it.
You eschew the electronic age,
because if you knew...
Love that word. "Eschew."
You reject it all,
because if you knew how to Google and Skype
and tweet and that stuff,
you would no longer have an excuse
for not facing the truth.
Please don't psychoanalyze the section leader.
Besides, you're one to talk.
What do you mean?
Well, why haven't you opened your card yet?
Hmm?
You should open it.
My guess is a birthday card
from daddy with a...
20 in it.
You are good.
Yeah. He always sent me $20 for my birthday.
Sent.
Not gave?
He left us when I was 10.
He always promised to come to my birthday,
but all I ever got was a card and some money.
That's why...
Making sure Kelly and Charlie kept that date
meant so much to you.
Yeah, maybe.
I know what it's like to wait for someone who never comes.
I'm sorry for you.
Life is short, Ms. Mclnerney.
Perhaps your father's sending you a message,
an olive branch that...
"Life is short." Oliver...
Oliver, that's it!
She was sending him a message!
Rita! Norman!
Let's go!
There's a reason she never wanted him to forget that...
It was her way of breaking the rules,
a way for him to find her.
She was sending him a message?
"Life is short."
Filter for "Kelly."
"Kelly and Charlie... "
Kelly... Kelly s.
Yes!
Oh! Look at her. She was so beautiful.
"Charlie, if you find this page,
you must have really wanted to find me.
And in case I don't make it to the bridge,
I wanted you to have these pictures
to remember the last best day of my life."
There's Charlie by the lake.
There he is sailing the boat.
What about Charlie and the bloodmobile?
They have to be in the same picture
in order to establish time and place.
Okay, there he is, swinging across the creek,
landing on the other side,
there he is running.
No, that's the jogger that ran into Charlie!
No, wait. Or is that Charlie?
No. That's the jogger. It just sort of looks like Charlie.
It looks a lot like Charlie.
Same hair, same build.
So Charlie was knocked down by someone
who looked a great deal like him.
Right before he lost his wallet.
There! There he is! He's on the move.
Well, get in! Come on.
Oliver, can't this thing go any faster?
My foot's all the way down.
- Oh, he's over there! - Ow.
Okay, here we go.
Sorry!
There he is... 1:00.
Hang on, Rita!
Hey! Ho!
You jerk.
What are you doing?
Sorry, sir.
The 18th hole is currently off-limits
due to some suspicious ground squirrel activity.
What the hell is going on?
A moment of your time, Jerry.
Who are you people?
Loyal Americans dedicated
to the highest standard of mail delivery.
We have some information of the utmost importance
we want to bring to your attention.
I gotta sink this putt
and be back in court in half an hour.
We have a double-double Reuben on rye
from the mile-high deli
that says you wanna hear what we have to say.
You are the public defender
for Mr. Charles Riggs,
and this is the information that proves he is innocent.
You're the guy that called me.
Photos taken the same day the crime took place.
Note the bloodmobile, a once-a-year afternoon event.
Please pay particular attention to this photo
of a man who bears a remarkable resemblance to Mr. Charles Riggs.
Please note his hand suspiciously close to Mr. Riggs' back pocket.
I submit to you
that he is stealing the very wallet
that the murderer of Roger Piperson
purposely dropped at the scene of the crime...
That's ridiculous.
I know it seems a bit far-fetched,
until I point out to you
the man accosting Mr. Riggs,
removing his wallet,
is Eugene mossley,
the cousin
and sole living relative
of the deceased millionaire.
Look him up. He's on the Internet.
Oh.
Follow the money, Mr. Polevich,
and I imagine you will find the murder weapon
and a man who has just inherited the millions
his cousin had promised to an orphanage.
Okay, well, I'm gonna give, uh, all this
some real thought.
No. You're gonna give that to the district attorney
and you're gonna get the charges against Mr. Riggs dropped.
Immediately.
What is that? Some kind of threat?
No.
But this is.
Have you ever seen what happens to Montana steaks
when they've been rerouted for additional postage?
Well played, sir.
That's right, Parker.
The remarkable way in which this new evidence
came to light certainly contributed to
to Riggs' speedy release, which
we expect to take place... Any minute now.
So this is it?
It's really over?
Before you know it,
we'll be back at the D.L.O., packing our proverbial bags,
and transferring to pueblo.
Or meeker. Or east tincup.
Our days of rule-breaking glory are over.
Not for me.
No.
I imagine you'll always be found somewhere
stepping across a line.
Before it's all over, I'd like to know why.
Shane Mclnerney, why are you such a revolutionary?
Well...
Since you called me by my real name,
I'm going to tell you, Mr. O'Toole.
I always followed the rules.
Drove the speed limit.
Always parked at least five feet away
from a fire hydrant,
never tore the tags off furniture.
So...
One night, when I went to a hospital,
and they told me
that visiting hours were over,
I said "thank you. I will come back tomorrow."
But when tomorrow came...
I didn't have anyone to come back to.
My dad had died in the night,
and I never got to the chance to work things out with him.
You two were at odds?
He had called a couple of months before,
and said that he was sick
and he wanted to spend my birthday with me
before he died.
I said
that he had been gone so long,
that he was dead to me already.
But he was your dad.
I'm sure he knew you didn't mean it.
He knew that I did.
Interesting.
What?
You may have surmised by now, uh, I am a man a faith.
It's true. He sings in the church choir.
Tenor.
You may find my faith
amusing or naive,
but you're something of a believer yourself.
What about me could possibly give you any indication
that I believe in God and redemption
and all that stuff?
Well, if you don't,
you should throw that card away right now.
Go ahead.
Yet there it is, still in your purse.
You're hoping there's redemption in there.
You're hoping that
there's something more than $20 in that envelope.
You're hoping...
That when you finally find the courage
to trust that your father never stopped loving you,
and you tear open that pain you've been carrying around,
there's forgiveness inside.
And hope like that, my dear Shane...
Is what faith is about.
How does it feel to be exonerated?
What's the first thing you're going to do?
I know it doesn't matter now, but
I just figured, it's the 26th,
and one of us should be here, right?
Of course.
We got you a bagel and lox.
Uh, and, uh cream cheese and capers.
Thanks.
For... everything.
Hey, Norman, we should go feed the ducks.
- Yeah, I don't know. - Norman.
Ducks carry disease, you know.
U.S. postal service, huh?
An obscure division.
Well, thank you.
I thought you might like these.
And a sewing kit.
A small souvenir I happened to keep
from the Washington, D.C., holiday inn.
Something to remember us by.
Good luck, Charlie.
It's hard to believe
this is our last assignment together.
This is our first assignment together, Norman.
Yeah.
I'm gonna miss us.
Oliver, look.
Kelly?
Charlie.
What are you doing here?
Well, we had a date, right?
I-I know, but I...
I tried to find you,
I did find you, at the research center,
but they said nobody survived the trials.
I never finished the trials.
I only signed up because it was free.
I-I was too afraid to go home to Boston
and ask my folks for help.
You were in Boston this entire time?
My parents found me the greatest doctor
in the world and I...
Oh, my God.
That is Kelly, right?
Yes, Norman, I believe it is.
I knew it!
I knew she couldn't actually be gone.
I don't understand.
I thought she was supposed to be, you know...
Don't believe everything you read on the Internet.
That's right.
"There are more things in heaven and earth," Norman,
"than can be dreamt of in your philosophy."
Shakespeare.
Aunt tilly's missing will,
the missing registration form of the class reunion,
the odd ransom note,
the first letter from college,
the last letter from Iraq...
I have seen it all...
Dead letters by the thousands,
each one a tiny paper vessel
laden with good news, or ill,
profit or loss,
love or pain.
Tossed about on the rough seas of government protocol,
a ship searching for its harbor,
each one bearing the power to change something,
and yet, each one a destiny postponed...
Until it comes to us.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is an excellent day.
Good morning, Oliver.
Good morning, Norman.
"District attorney Edwards
hailed the local post office branch
at Alameda and downing
for the superlative service
and a highly-efficient dead letter division.
The branch was originally slated for closure,
but will now be expanded
to receive all misdirected letters
from the Western and mid-states regions!"
Mclnerney!
Looks like you rate now.
That transfer you put in for
came through early, and you report
to the direct line operations at the terminal annex in...
Two hours.
Thanks.
Do you still want it?
I think, uh...
I think...
I think I need a cup of coffee.
Um...
Good coffee.
Excuse me.
Looks like your "loop" just got a little smaller.
Aspen chai tea with foam.
Next?
Come and get 'em!
I got three skinny vanilla lattes
and one steamboat americano.
We have a lot of mail to sort through today, people, so...
That was very nice of you.
Well, I found an extra $20 in my purse.
Yes, the thoughtfully-composed,
well-considered, addressed, stamped, professionally postmarked,
and personally-delivered letter
is still the gold standard of human intercourse.
God is in his universe,
and all is right with the world.
- Sync and corrected by Albanda - - www.Addic7ed.com -