Subterranean Post Office Despair

Ah! The Post Office at lunch time. The place of despair, hope, panic, anger. Ah! The efficient computer based system which somehow needs a man to press the right options for you. The desperate clutching of the numbered ticket, the furtive glances at the screen later replaced with angry glaring at the screen. The amazement when you realise you are 175th in the queue and yet there appears to only be about 35 people in the room clutching tickets. The super efficient self service computer screens which purportedly weigh your parcel or letter and calculate the correct price, but actually generate a random price based on some special Royal Mail algorithm. Built into this algorithm is a system which makes the software less responsive and more likely to crash depending on the number of people behind you in the queue and depending on how stressed out you are. The touch screens are made from a special formulation derived from the buttocks of rhinoceros.
All of these things usually work me up into a pent up stress ball. One of the wonders of photography, though, is the ability to experience these things around you, to fully appreciate the emotions, the powerful nuances of the things around you and yet still remain detached. One part of the mind is appreciating the glory, the horror, the beauty, the glaring inconsistencies, the irony. Another part is thinking (sometimes without thinking too hard) about composition, depth of field and always, always about lighting.