The ornate front door before Charm looked to be about a mile high. The soft glow of candlelight emanated from the mansion’s windows, no doubt from the get-together she’d uninvited herself to. Not that she could blame anypony for that besides herself. She’d had so many things backwards, and still had so far to go before she could measure up to her true peers.
Still, she raised her hoof and knocked. Perhaps they wouldn’t even open the door for the likes of her.
A servant with a grey coat, cropped black mane, and a stoic expression opened the door a crack. A fire’s warmth and the quiet din of conversation leaked out into the night air. “Good evening. Are you expected, Miss—?”
“Charm. I’d like to speak to Miss Fleur, if she’d be willing to see me.”
The servant gave a quick nod. “Very well, I’ll—”
Fleur’s voice floated through the door. “Charm? Come in, come in!”
Charm remained on the doorstep. She stared down at her hooves, chipped from a day of walking all manner of streets. Still, the hooficure from the Ponyville spa had held up better than any she’d ever received in Canterlot. She’d have to take note of that.
“I wish I deserved to come in, Fluer. Alas, I do not.”
Fleur joined her in the cool night air. “A less sympathetic pony might agree, but my invitation stands regardless. I must apologize for losing my temper before.”
Charm stood up straight and, for what felt like the first time, looked Fleur full in the face. She was a very tall pony, lithe and beautiful in the classical way that no number of specialty products or spa treatments could bestow. “You spoke the truth at our tea party, Fleur. You’ve been nothing but kind, and I squandered that kindness. I was blind to it and a great many other things. Without even meaning to, I’ve treated ponies the same as furniture. I’m here to apologize, and to invite you to my home tomorrow morning, you and whomever else would be willing to come.”
A hoof fell across Charm’s shoulders. “Apology accepted, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world, dear. What’s the occasion? Another tea party?”
“Actually—” a smile crept onto Charm’s face “—I’m starting up a charitable organization: meals for the poor, housing assistance, personal finance lessons, career advice… Ways to help ponies become self sufficient and better themselves however they see fit. I intend to fully fund the enterprise, but would love some partners to help oversee things and get the wheels in motion, as they say.”
Fleur sucked in a breath. “That, Charm, is a cause no sensible pony would dare ignore.”
---
With an hour left before closing time, the line at the post office stretched out the door. Ditzy hadn’t ever questioned why dropping off a letter or a package took so long, or why half of Ponyville seemed to wait until the last minute to do so. Normally she’d see the line from across the street, remember her big master plan for Ditzy’s Delivery Service, and walk by with a smile. Not today.
She stepped into line without a word or complaint, something everypony in front of her seemed to have covered. A dozen versions of “why does this always take so long?” went up and down the line within the first ten minutes. Within twenty minutes Ditzy learned two new, colorful earth pony expressions for whiners and line-cutters. After forty minutes she reached the counter and smiled brightly at a haggard mare behind the counter. “Hi!”
The post office mare stared at her, as expressionless as a statue filled with dynamite. “Can I help you?”
“I saw that help wanted sign in the window—”
“Come back tomorrow morning and fill out an application.”
Ditzy glanced back at the still long line of impatient customers. “But it looks like you could use some help now, and I can start right away.”
The post office mare rolled her eyes, but then turned toward the hallway leading to the back. “Hey, Stamps, somepony needs to speak to the postmaster!”
A minute full of grumbling later, an old pegasus stallion with a limp and small blue cap and emerged from a side door. “What’s the trouble out here?”
“Next customer!” The mare behind the counter shouted.
Ditzy trotted over to the stallion and held out her hoof. “Hi, I’m Ditzy. I’m here to ask about the help wanted sign in the window.”
The stallion gave a curt nod. “Proper Postage, but most ponies call me Stamps. Come back tomorrow and fill out an application.”
“That’s what your friend behind the counter said, but I could help right now.”
Stamps gave a gruff laugh. “Got any postal experience?”
Ditzy shook her head. “Nope. The last place I worked was the Hay Burger across town.”
“You ever wait on customers there?”
“Nope. They only ever had me make hay fries.”
“Got any references, any ponies that’ll say you’re a good hire?”
Ditzy thought for a moment and shook her head. “Probably not.”
Stamps tilted his head back and looked to the ceiling. “Why in Equestria should I hire you, then?”
Ditzy gestured to the line again. “Today I got fired because my old boss made me work double shifts for months until I couldn’t stay awake, the bank turned down my small business loan application, I ruined my best outfit in a mud pit, and I just waited for almost an hour to get through this line,—” she pointed to her face “—and I can still smile. See my cutie mark? It’s for how I can pick myself up again no matter what sort of bad thing happens.”
She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I was made for customer service.”
Stamp’s eyebrows slowly rose until his cap fell off. The corners of his mouth rose next, and a moment later he was laughing loud enough that the mare behind the counter stopped talking to glare. “Guess I can’t argue with that. What the hay, come on back and help me sort the express mail. We’ll deal with the paperwork tomorrow.”
Ditzy stood up straight and saluted him. “Yes Sir, Mr. Stamps, Sir! Oh, uh, the mail is insured, right?”
Stamps nodded. “By Princess Celestia herself.”
“Perfect.”