I was taken aback when the post office clerk asked me if I thought giving birth was funny.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“Well, do you think it’s funny?”

“No, but when my professor refers to something called the ‘bloody show’ and connects it to labor, it kind of makes me laugh. I think of a Broadway show or something.”

“That’s a sick sense of humor if you ask me.”

When I decided to apply to write a column for The Daily, I promised myself that I wouldn’t touch current events with a ten-foot pole. But this, I can’t help.

The entire package debacle began Monday when I attempted to send a newspaper and magazine to Andy, my ex in El Paso, Texas. Because I consider myself crafty, I fashioned my own envelope and decorated it with pictures, a few Latin phrases and a copy of the definition of “the bloody show,” which I had just recently learned in class. I fastened this quite large package with several staples and, apparently, included one too many stamps. Plus, I handwrote the address.

I made the trek down to the post office and dropped it in the slot, satisfied that the package would arrive in El Paso safely. I was sorely mistaken.

My package was returned to me the next day. Apparently, because of the weight of the package, I had to physically take it and hand it to a clerk at the post office. Annoying, but not so hard.

But later that evening, I received an e-mail from University Police listing warning signs of suspicious packages and letters: excessive postage, handwritten addresses, excessive weight, a lopsided or uneven envelope, excessive security material such as masking tape, string, staples, etc., and visual distractions and ticking sounds.

With the exception of the ticking sounds, my package had trouble written all over it. I knew that this trip to the post office would be intense.

When I arrived, all the clerks were sporting latex gloves and one even had a mask over her face.

“So, you’re trying to mail this package?”

“Yup.”

“Well, son, this package only needs $3.95 worth of postage – you have $6 worth.”

“I didn’t know how much to put on.”

“And these staples – are you trying to hurt someone?”

“No, but I didn’t want anything to fall out.”

“Ever thought of using an envelope? They work pretty well. And what’s with the pictures? And the Latin, do you speak Latin?”

“Not usually, I just thought they were nice touches.”

“We’re putting this through the X-ray machine.”

I emerged victorious 10 minutes later after the post office concluded that I was not trying to send a bomb to El Paso. What really annoyed me was this woman’s persistence, and that she would not touch my hand to collect the money. She made me put it on the counter.

Although I understand that these precautions are necessary, this situation really irritated me. I never thought I would be personally affected by a national disaster in progress, but I certainly was wrong. So a word to the wise: When mailing packages, leave out anything that talks about the ‘bloody show.’ Trust me.