I know these guys carry a lot of mail. I know they slog through rain, sleet and snow to make sure I get that catalog from Patagonia.
I also know you don't need a college degree to do the job. Just a firm grasp of the alphabet, a love of the great outdoors and the ability to sprint away from the random ferocious dog.
Yesterday, we received this padded envelope, about an inch thick. Felt like a book. Was addressed to this guy who doesn't live at our house, with an address that went something like this...
R. Hall
913 W. Preston Ave.
Stillwater, OK 74075
My address is this:
C. Cheney
813 W. Moore Ave.
Stillwater, OK 74075
Now, I guess I can see that the wily "13" part of these addresses might throw a man if he's just glancing. So yesterday, I just left the package sitting on the windowsill for the mailman to pick up today and hopefully deliver to the right guy, especially since there was a barcode on the package for tracking purposes.
Today, when the mailman dropped by, I was sitting in the dining room feeding Kaia, the shades pulled back so I could see outside. The mailman stops by, and you can hear him coming because he carries a radio in his bag, speakers tinny and blaring. He stops by, drops our mail in the box, then stoops over and picks up the envelope.
At this point, I'm thinking, "sweet, it'll get to where it needed to go." Kaia and I finished up breakfast (her crying basically the whole time; kid's either constipated or she's got more teeth coming in and they're really bothering her), get her shoes on, her jacket. She's ready to go, so I walk over to the front door to get the mail.
Sticking out of the top of my mailbox is the envelope.
The dude picked it up off the windowsill, had to have looked at it again, then recrammed it into the mailbox.
You can't make stuff like this up.
4 comments:
is this your regular mail carrier?
"Newman!"
For about two years I had a daily chore of going through our mail and delivering the non-junkmail to the neighbors while hoping that they would do the same for me. I never got any mail that wasn't more than a house or two away. It seriously pissed me off, and I filled out complaints all the time. Then I met the mailman. He looked and talked like he had a severe mental disability. My mailman really was retarded. We stopped getting other people's mail about half a year ago, and I still feel bad that I might have got the retarded dude fired.
Now that's just sad. I thought it was still there because he didn't see it or something. What a tard. Er...
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