Work Text:
Joe Rogan wandered down the slurry-filled streets of Boulder, Colorado one winter day. The recent flurries had partially melted, leaving behind frosty puddles suspended by occasional banks of snow.
Squarsh
Squeesh
Squarsh
Squeesh
Every trudging step that Joe took towards the post office, the cold water and muck infiltrated his boots with an almost gleeful malevolancy. He reflected on many things – a robust pre-match statistical analysis weighing the various factors and scenarios of Aldo vs. Jung; which fruit or vegetable Tito Ortiz most resembled; his regret about the network’s cancellation of Fear Factor over something as trivial as a leaked video of contestants consuming donkey ejaculate; and his thoughts on the increasing likelihood of a superfight matching Michael Bisping and Roy “Big Country” Nelson.
Finally, Rogan’s thoughts of rested on something that Goldberg recently said that had irked Rogan deeply. He paused and frowned as he recalled the moment. It was UFC on Fox: Johnson vs. Moraga. Rory MacDonald had just defeated Jake Ellenberger by unanimous decision (30-27, 29-28, 30-27) after a tedious bout resembling kittens pawing softly at each other over a bowl of milk that lasted 3 rounds.
Joe recalled the moment after the match when he turned to Goldberg and said, “Ah, that reminds me, I need to renew my UFC commenting license with the commission… I’ll need to mail it in.”
Goldberg turned to Rogan, leaning in close – his eyes bore into Joe’s eyes and Joe could feel Goldberg’s warm, sweet breath. Goldberg’s nose dangled just within the bounds of Joe’s bubble of intimate personal space.
Goldberg’s plump lips twisted into a sneer and his eyebrows waggled.
“You’ll need to pick up stamps from the post office.”
Joe said nothing because Goldberg immediately, devastatingly followed up with: “The post office is for chumps.”
That moment burned hotly in Joe’s mind as he trudged through the snowy streets of Boulder towards that very location – the post office.
The Boulder post office received mixed reviews on Yelp – a lukewarm 3 and a half stars. Though some reviewers seemed impressed with the office’s relative efficiency in comparison with other post offices or with its fine selection of stamps, others felt that efficiency had dropped off with budgetary cutbacks and that line ups were increasingly long.
“How much is my time worth?” yelp reviewer Phil S. of Boulder, USA had typed in apoplectic rage, breaking his keyboard.
These facts confronted Joe Rogan as he finally trudged upon the post office building, only to discover a line up out the door filled with surly looking Bouldarites.
Usually, the citizens of Boulder had little cause for concern – they had the iconic Flatiron rock formations amid impressive natural beauty, a university, and unlicensed radio so significant that it warranted a mention on Boulder’s Wikipedia page, even if the neutrality of that section was disputed. Today, however, something was clearly awry with the postal service.
Joe Rogan cast about for options, unwilling to abandon his task and yet unhappy to consider joining the line. His thoughts ceased abruptly however, when a mysterious hooded figure jostled him.
“Stamps.com,” the hulking hooded figure whispered unintelligibly.
“HUH!?” Joe Rogan demanded.
“Stamps.COM” the hooded figure hissed.
Joe Rogan squinted – he thought he could make out a massive, yet muscled girth in the hooded figure’s frame. He also thought he could see the soft fuzz of a beard framing the figure’s jaw, and perhaps even the wisps of an unkempt, tousled mullet peaking out from under the hood.
“STAMPS.COM” the hooded figure whispered violently, before pushing his way through the line and disappearing.
“Stamps.com? Stamps.com!” Joe Rogan repeated with wonder at first, and then with conviction.
He turned away from the mundane chaos of the post office and into a new world of technological wonder of postage on demand where he could weigh his own packages and print off his own stamps and shipping labels.
Joe Rogan ran into the street – euphoria gripping him. No longer doomed to a chump existence – he had to tell his family, he had to tell Goldberg, and most of all he had to tell the listeners of the Joe Rogan Experience podcast!
The end