Patrons waiting at a Wicker Park postal branch formally acknowledged Tuesday that the single open register would never reach them, prompting the line to pool resources for a permanent shared existence.
The realization reportedly set in around 2:15 p.m. after the queue for passport renewals and package drop-offs remained stationary for six hours. Recognizing that the sole clerk on duty had entered a trance-like state while processing a single international money order, the 14 individuals in line collectively decided to abandon their outside lives. Witnesses confirmed the group has already begun using a stack of Priority Mail flat rate boxes to construct rudimentary sleeping shelters along the laminated tile floor.
By late afternoon, the queue had established a crude barter economy based on decorative stamp booklets and discarded packing tape. A local woman, originally intending to mail a sweater to her niece, was unanimously elected as the settlement's elder after demonstrating she possessed half a granola bar and a functioning portable phone charger.
While we respect the autonomy of the newly formed micro-society occupying the retail lobby, we do ask that residents refrain from foraging inside the post office box enclosure.
At nightfall, the queue's longest-tenured resident, a man who arrived on Monday to buy a single sheet of global stamps, was seen teaching the newer line-standers how to harvest rainwater from a leaking ceiling tile near the passport photo station.