Be glad I don't handle your package

To show you how my brain works, I was in the post office yesterday to mail a package for Laurie. I step up to the counter, and hand the post lady my package. She asks if I want to pay for insurance or tracking. I say no and she gives me this look and then says "Ok, priority mail only then". Now i have this fear that as soon as i walk out of the building she's going to pull out the huge secret rubber stamp that says "break or lose this fucking thing". It's not that i expect that to happen, It's that if i was in her place that's what i would do. And if there was no large secret rubber stamp that says "Break this shit" then by god i would make one.