Post Office Debacle

I went to the post office this morning to mail a few things to a friend in Montana. I stuffed my little flat rate box and brought it up to the counter where the nice neighborhood post office lady (from here on referred to as the NNPOL) begins to assist me. Our dialogue (inner, and outer) went something like this:

NNPOL: Good morning.
Me (outer voice): Morning.
Me (inner voice): Gawd, I hate mornings.
NNPOL: Does your package today contain anything fragile, perishable, liquid or hazardous?
Me (inner voice): All of the above.
Me (outer voice): Ah, liquid. And maybe perishable. I don't know.
NNPOL: Um, so what is it?
Me: (inner voice): Shoot, you probably aren't supposed to mail alcohol. But is that for interstate commerce reasons because if so, it wouldn't apply. Home brew. Shoot.
Me (outer voice): Cider. From Julian, CA. And a candy apple.
Me (inner voice): Man, I suck at lying. Nice touch with the candy apple ya candy ass.
NNPOL: Is the cider alcoholic?
Me (outer voice): No.

NNPOL calls over another NNPOL and asks if it's OK to mail cider. NNPOL2 asks me what state I'm sending it to (though I'm not sure how that could matter) and I say Montana. NNPOL2 says "sure."

I hand over the 8 bucks and get out of there just in time to prevent the no-so-nice neighborhood parking cop (NSNNPC) from writing me an $85 ticket. The curb specifically said "mail drop only". If I'm in the post office, isn't that exactly what I'm doing?! Anyway, I digress.

This whole story really starts out about two months ago in Reno, NV when my friends Ilka, Andrea, Logan, and I took a few days to get all hippyed out, walk barefoot through the park, and make dandelion wine. Well now the fermentation process is finished, the wine is ready, and I promised a bottle to Logan (now in Montana) for setting aside his manhood and picking dandelions in the park for an afternoon with a couple hippies. It didn't dawn on me until I was already standing at the counter with the package that the USPS doesn't allow you to mail alcohol. I had them stamp "fragile" at least 15 times all over the box so I am hoping it makes it to Montana in one piece. Otherwise, someone may need to bail me out of jail for some US mail related offence. Next time, I’m going to FedEx.