Because of the nature of my job, I depend heavily on the timely delivery of my mail: UPS, Fedex and the US Postal Service are the backbone of my mini-industry. Whenever I move to a new city, one of the first things I do is befriend my local delivery folk by heavily kissing their asses.
I've lived in my little basement apartment in New Haven, Conn for 2 1/2 months now, and I typically see the same delivery people every day--and they're great, great people. They know I'm always home, which has got to be a pretty cool thing if you're a delivery person, because this means you don't have to lug the damn package back to your truck like every other stop where the person is at work.
I have a new mail man. And I see it in his eyes...he says hello, but I know he's thinking "Dude, every day I have to drive up to your house and knock on your door and wait for you to sign for something....I'm sick of getting out of my van, asshole!"
Well, today he didn't. He left me one of those "Sorry we missed you, now you gotta go to the post office and pick up this package youself, buddy" notices.
Fine. I'll leave my house to go to that tomorrow. But this isn't over. I have ten packages coming next week...I'll be whittling wood, waiting on the porch for you.
No comments:
Post a Comment