Bootylicious part II

Who Knew????

Yes, THE BOOTS that received so much scorn when
i brought them home
are now gracing the pages of stylish magazines!!!
according to this blurb,
my boots (a.k.a. "snow joggers")
are not just hot,they are SIZZLING.
just another reminder to never
look a gift boot
in
the mouth.
Thanks again Mr. C
for your kind gift
and for helping me stay on the cutting edge
of
high fashion.
I'm now hot on the heels
of trendy fashionistas everywhere.

These boots were made for
stylin'
and that's just what they'll do.

(with regards to
Ms. Nancy Sinatra
wherever she's walkin' now.)

we are santa's elves

despite
miles of
snow drifts
and
walking up driveways
that are icy enough
to pass for hockey rinks

and hopping out of the truck
to make
mounted deliveries
because the snowplow guy is a rookie
and is afraid of getting too close to the boxes

despite
all of the
heavy volume
and long hours
and exhaustion

a real
sense of
excitement
always creeps
into
the
job
this time of year

on december 26th
we go back
to being
regular
old
mail carriers

but

for a few

brief
magical
days
we are santa's elves

oh really?

in case you can't read what is written on this candy bar
it says
WORLD'S GREATEST MAILMAN

P recieved this from a customer the other day and now insists that it is "proof"
that he is THE best. ever.

what about the tens of thousands of other mailmen and women around the country that also received that very same gift?
huh? ever think about that big guy?????

do us a favor. just put the thing away in a drawer.
or better yet.. eat it.

Tip! Tip! Hurray!

usually, brutal weather will bring out "sympathy tips" early and often.
but the tips just weren't happening for me this year.
that was until my pal L gave me my squishy dinosaur pal named Freddie.
day one with freddie on the route i pulled in one envelope.
the next day the same.
haven't hit a day without a tip since then.
mere coincidence?
perhaps.
but i still believe in getting a little help from the tip totems.
in this photo you can see Saint Martha along with Freddie.
Saint Martha is the Patron Saint of Waiters and Waitresses, housewives, cooks, dietitians, butlers and travellers.
i figure if she works for all of them, she should be able to help us out too.

i bought Saint Martha last christmas for my mail pal P.
she comes complete with a stand, a full halo, AND a Prayer Card.
here's what it says on the prayer card:

Prayer to Assist in Receiving Generous Tips


O blessed St. Martha, I beseech thee to help me serve others with just enough grace, humility and patience to garner a healthy gratuity. Amen.

Yes . amen to that.

big HUGE storm expected to roll in tonight.
monday, which will be a snow day for rest of the known world (that only have to drive to work), will be a major league fiasco for those of us that have to spend the entire day trooping through drifts up to our eyeballs, carrying parcels, and fighting with the snowplow guys..because there is only room for one vehicle on the road (theirs, of course)( apparently they haven't heard the saying "through rain, sleet, SNOW, or hail...)
but that's another entry.

will big storm = big tips?
that is the carrier equation that remains to be solved.

I'm dreaming of a white carpet

every christmas i think back to all of the kind customers that have invited me in for a minute or two to warm up and have some holiday chit-chat.
i particularly remember Mr. and Mrs.G ordering me in to sing a few christmas carols around their gorgeous grand piano in their gorgeous living room in their gorgeous house.
they were well into their 80's at the time..maybe even 90's...how could i resist such a lovely invitation from such a lovely couple?
"don't bother to take your boots off honey..just come on in!"
"are you sure Mrs. G?" I asked, surveying her white wall to wall carpet.
"yes, i'm sure! come on over to the piano."
so i did.
i stood there as she sat down and played Angels We Have Heard On High followed by a beautiful rendition of Silent Night.
"this is the stuff holiday memories are made of", i thought to myself.
then i looked down.
beneath my feet was not just a large puddle..but a black large puddle.
should i say something?
after all, she said it was OK to keep my boots on.
i made a gracious, but quick exit..grateful for their hospitality and their apparently failing eyesight!

what the hootenanny

there is a cul- du-sac on my route.
one of the houses is set way back off the circle.
i had a parcel for the nice old guy that lives there.
the driveway leading to the house is way too long to walk, so
i drove it back and rang the bell.
no response.
rang again.
waited.
nothing.
it was pretty snowy so instead of just leaving it out on the stoop
i opened his storm door to stick it safely inside.
big BIG mistake.
a siren went off that sounded like a bonified air raid drill.
that was followed by a booming voice (think announcer at an NFL game)
saying "SECURITY HAS BEEN BREACHED. THE POLICE HAVE BEEN CALLED. LEAVE THE PREMISES
IMMEDIATELY!"
Then the air raid blast again.
Followed by the VOICE again.
while making my escape i saw the speakers on top of the guy's roof that looked like they should have been set up for a Rolling Stones Concert at Madison Square Garden.
Talk about overkill!
The message kept blaring!
This went on for as long as i was on the street.
I drove along feeling like some sort of criminal leaving the scene of a crime.

Note to self:
next time leave the old man's package on the snowy doorstep and drive slowly away.

Bootylicious !

I was running really late during a blinding snowstorm the other day
when one of my retired customers came to the door.
He asked me to come in.
This is a guy that once told me he had "more money than he knew what to do with".
I was thinking "here comes my first tip of the season".
When I stepped inside, he asked "what size feet do you have?"
Then I was thinking "here comes a pair of his dead wife's shoes".
He brought up these snow boots from the basement.
I was very touched.
The guy is a total sweetheart.
When i brought them home to show my family, the general consensus was that i should toss them out
because they have "a dead person's DNA on them".

Just an afterthought, does this qualify as a booty call?
In any event, it's always nice to get a little christmas bootie of any type.

Mailmom goes to pre-school

In the fall of 2001, my son Jonah was just starting pre-school.
It was a tiny classroom, about the size of a large living room.
There were five other children in his class.
The teacher's name was Muzzie .
Muzzie was, and still is, the kindest, most gentle teacher on the planet.
She asked me to come in and talk to the kids about being a mail carrier.
I was more than happy to do so and began preparing for the gig.

When the big day came, I started off by reading them a story called My Mother the Mail Carrier.
They seemed to like that well enough, but I could tell they were beginning to get a bit restless.
I realized that I better get them physically involved
or I would probably lose their interest. After all,they were four year-olds and could only sit still for so long.

I put my mailbag on my shoulder and started telling them about how to prevent dog bites.
Many of the children had dogs of their own and seemed to be enjoying the topic.
I had brought along a hand puppet of a nasty looking Doberman with it's teeth poised in the ready-to-chop-on-some one's-leg position.
They took turns trying to attack me with the puppet. I showed them different techniques for fending off old Fido ...(feeding him the bag, feeding him the mail etc.). Things were going pretty well. I had every one's rapt attention.
It was time for the grand finale!
"Sit down kids. Now I'm going to show you how to stop a dog from attacking if nothing else works!"
"This stuff is called pepper spray. If used properly, it will stop a dog right in its tracks. One time I had to spray an aggressive dog and when I got done, he looked like he had stuck his face in a bag of Cheetos!"
They loved that story!
I was on a roll!
I had a big sheet of paper on an easel.
I stood back several paces and sprayed my dog spray onto the paper so they could see the "pretty orange Cheetos color" for themselves.
What I didn't plan on was the fumes kicking off the sheet of paper and seriously starting to irritate the eyes and nasal passages of six little four year-olds, their teacher, my husband and several other parents that witnessed this unfortunate miscalculation.
The kids started coughing and tearing up.
They started waving their seat cushions in the air.
The teacher ran to the door, opening and closing it, in a desperate attempt to circulate some fresh air into the classroom.
I stood at the head of the class frozen in horror.
As long as I live, my family will never let me forget the day I "went postal" on a bunch of unsuspecting pre-schoolers.

Black friday..postal version

wake up after eating too much and staying up too late
it's 6:00 am and it's still black outside.

take a shower
get dressed
put on black long johns because it's gonna be freezing out there.

hit the clock at 7:00 am.
hard to find my case because it's buried under so much mail.
ask myself (as always)..is it worth it to have the day off and come back to this mess?
as always, the answer is ..yes!

hit the street.
jump out for my first stop...
almost literally hit the street..
black ice.
drop a few choice swear words.
tell myself to slow down.
ask myself why did i ever decide to be a mail carrier anyhow?

calm down.
regroup.
think about all of the crazy people in line to buy
some deeply discounted electronic crap.
think they are nuttier for doing that than i am for doing this.
is it still black friday if all of those goofballs in line are
seriously in the red at the end of the day?

a customer comes to the door and asks me if
i can hold on a second.
sure i can...
he's been gone so long
that i think..
he must be filling out a card for me with a tip inside.
i'm thinking not black or red..but green.

he comes back and hands me a bill to mail for him.
tip blackout!

work 9 hours.
get in my car to drive home.
sky is already dark. black.

home.
eat something.
not left overs.
hit the futon.
black out.

turkey day

here is what i am postally grateful for:

1) right now it is freezing and sleety outside
and i am not out there schlepping mail around

2) yesterday's mandated two hour pivot was not the nightmare scenario
that i had imagined it would be

3) tomorrow i will get paid to walk off some of the 4,000 calories that i will
undoubtedly consume at my brother's turkey day meal

happy holidays to you my postal compatriots!

i hate to be the one to break it to you buddy, but life ain't fair

It was a heavy mail day.
I had catalogs up the wazoo.
I was beat.
The sun was going down.
I just wanted to get home.
I was on the very last street on my route.

Looking around the bend, four houses up, I could just about make out the shadowy figure of a guy waiting next to his mailbox.
Even though I couldn't see him clearly, I knew by his posture, that he wasn't just waiting to get his mail.
He had a bone to pick.
After 20 years of playing this game, I was pretty sure he was going to ask me why I was "late".
Well, I was half right.
He definitely had a bone to pick..but it wasn't just that I was LATE,
but rather he was upset because he always gets his mail last everyday.
I did my best to explain that the route is laid out a certain way for reasons of efficiency, and to make him FIRST as he suggested, would mean reprogramming complex computer data bases, retraining clerks, changing our cases around..blah,blah, blah..
"When I want to change the order of things in my computer I JUST HIT REVERSE!", he explained to me.

I felt like just hitting reverse myself and driving away from the whole conversation.
I sat there , not knowing what to tell the guy.
"Get a life"..(or failing that, get a P.O. box) was the first thing that came to mind.
"What can I tell you? I hear what you're saying ..but the P.O. is a monolith. We don't do change well. The best you can hope for is that the next time they adjust the routes, your street comes out in an earlier position. Until then, all I can say is , if you want your mail around 10:00am, you're going to have to move to Fairview Dr., because they are on the beginning of my route. Unfortunately, there's nothing for sale on that street right now. ..but if something comes up, I'll give you a holler!".

How I start every postal day

oatmeal is as central to my postal existence as mail.
can't get the wheels turning without it.
there are two oatmeal related problems though.
1) eating it gives you the false sense that is OK to then eat all of the other crap that people bring in on their overtime day (i.e. donuts, cookies,pastry...) because the oats cancel all of that stuff out.
2) if you don't finish your delightfully steaming, brown sugar filled bowl within two minutes, it magically morphs into wallpaper paste right before your eyes.then you're faced with the question of "will i eat wallpaper paste..cuz it's good for me..or will i be wasteful and toss it out?"
just another of little postal conundrum.

side note: the blue latex gloves are a fashion must for mail gals this fall.
come on girls, let's rock that uni!!

the real reason that dogs want to bite us

making dog biscuits in the shape of mail carriers is just plain wrong.

postal plaything

my mail pal peter gave me this dog toy for christmas last year.
i think every carrier should have one. It's called a "postal plaything".
there are many uses.
today i was bored so i brought it out on the route with me and talked to it while i did my mounted section.
you can hang it from your belt and feed it to a dog if it tries to bite you.
you can use it as a vodoo doll if one of your co-workers is making your life miserable.
it looks great hanging up at work, especially since we have been told to remove all personal items from our cases.
makes a great gift for the dog and/or postal pal on your holiday list.
hopefully it's not made in China!

Ripped Off

this morning i asked my fellow carriers "So, what's the official postal etiquette for dealing with the candy that the kids dropped last night..do we leave it or pick it up?" The universal answer was "Look both ways to make sure nobody is looking, then pick it up!"
I love being a mail carrier on Nov. 1st.
It's like getting paid to go on one big, long, easter egg hunt.
It's kind of like fishing too, because you really don't know what you're going to find out there. You could hit the mother lode or maybe you'll just get a nibble.
so off i went with visions of fun size Snickers bars filling my head.
i got shut out on the first street and started bumming.
then i told myself to relax and focus..and reassured myself that the candy would come.
second street..NOTHING.
admittedly, my vision ain't what it use to be, but when it comes to seeing an orphaned piece of candy laying in the grass, i'm like a god darn hawk!
finally, after an hour of agonising, i hit two pieces in one bundle..( OK ..one was Smarties..which doesn't really count because it's not chocolate..but at least i was making some headway!)
that put some spring back in my step. the hunt was on.
sadly, the rest of the route was a complete and total bust.
talk about dejection.
i felt like the dude that goes to the beach with his metal detector hoping to find a Rolex watch and comes home with two bottle caps and a nickle.
now i know how charlie brown felt in that scene from The Great Pumpkin when he went trick or treating and all he got was a rock.
there was one bit of silver lining to this dark cloud.
i did get a big smile on my face when i thought of all the adorable little children that innocently trampled across Ms. Ribble's lawn the night before.
so much for her "DO NOT CROSS LAWN" order!

a halloween story about a mailman named gary

years ago i worked with a mailman named gary.
he had the gift of bluntness coupled with a knack for pissing people off.
he was a rather intimidating guy, well over 300 lbs and absolutely unconcerned with political correctness.
for some unknown reason, gary and i developed quite a rapport.
i was into country music at the time. he detested it and would make up twangy songs about the post office and sing them rather loudly to me.
i loved it.
here is the best story he ever told me.

before getting his job at the P.O., he worked at Wegmans grocery store.
Wegmans has a very RAH-RAH attitude about everything which drove him around the bend.
the night before halloween, at a staff meeting, his manager told all of the employees that they were required to wear costumes to work the next day.
gary, of course told them that there was no way he was going to do that.
he was told that it was mandatory..not optional.

the next morning he called his boss.
"I've got a costume..."
his boss was pleased.
"I'm going to be The Invisible Man!"
he hung up the phone, and of course made himself invisible by not showing up at work that night.
that, my friends, is how you make a sick call.
god bless you gary wherever you are.
and happy halloween!

Here we go again

Just when i had put worries of offending my elderly, conservative customers with my "clever" book behind me.....Mrs. X sticks her head out of the door today
to tell me that she heard about my book from Mrs. B.
Mrs. X is even older than Mrs. B..perhaps even more devout and even blue-bloodier.
Now she says she is going to get a copy of my book too!
This time i actually was able to offer up a bit of a warning..telling her that the book is a bit "spicy".
"That's OK..I like spicy!" she assured me.
we shall see.
one positive thing of note:
she asked me my name several times.
seems her memory is beginning to fail.
maybe she'll just forget about the whole conversation
and i'll dodge a bullet.
or maybe i'm not giving these old timers enough credit.
maybe they do like "spicy".

socks addict

i had a day off.
my uniform's been looking pretty ragged lately.
had a little time to kill and a full compliment of my clothing allotment available..so i
stopped by the uniform store.
needed shirts, pants ,shoes, rubbers..badly.
what did i wind up buying?
no shirts.
no pants.
a pair of shoes that kind of don't fit me. liked the price more than anything else. $46 marked down from $96. (i'll make them fit somehow)..
and seven pairs of kick ass socks.
four different styles. three different colors.
all with extra cushiony heels.
i'll be the first to admit that i do suffer from an acute case of sock lust.
walking out of the store i probably should have felt like it was a failure of a shopping trip, but instead i was ecstatic..clutching my bag full of socks to my chest like an addict that just scored some choice cocaine.
tomorrow will be a better day just because of my brand new socks.
i will probably have to wear 3 pair at a time to get my new shoes ( 7 WIDE) to fit my
7 NARROW feet but love is blind and i am in love.
socks are definitely not overrated.

Yikes

i published a book in the spring.
it's about aging boomers.
it's about how we use to smoke pot and now we just take care of our suburban manicured lawns.
it's about sagging boobs and boob jobs.
it's about botox , SUV's and triple lattes.
it's not warm and fuzzy.
it's crusty and snarky.
there is one illustration that involves full-frontal nudity.
why am i telling you this?
only because my oldest and most catholic, country club blue blooded customers got a phone call from one of their old neighbors.
she told them that she knew i was their mail carrier ..and asked if they had seen the book i had written.
this lady is a friend of my mom's..she's very avante garde and open minded and LOVED the book.
that's cool.. but why would she tell these totally conservative, proper people about it???
so, they met me at the door yesterday telling me that they were on their way out to buy a copy of the book.
how could i tell them.."no..don't do it!"
i froze.
they pulled out of the driveway and waved goodbye!
OH MY GOD! this is not going to have a happy ending.
i told brian about it this morning because he use to deliver this route and he knows these people and has read my book.
"Brian..how do you think they are going to react to the book?"
"You can kiss your Christmas tip goodbye." was his response.
today as i got closer to delivering their house i got a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.
please do not be home !
shoot!
there's MR. B backing out of his driveway.
please just keep driving!
shoot!
there is his power window going down.
"We got your book."
shoot.
"It was very (pause--------------------) clever".
he hated it.
"My wife liked it very much!"
nice save!
well at least that's over with...
and we can all move on.

dehydration vs. cancer

the weather up until this week has been freakishly warm around here.
of course with temps into the high 80's it has been of utmost importance to stay properly hydrated.
a while back i was on my way to the drinking fountain to fill up a few of my water bottles before i hit the street. they were water bottles i had bought designer water in a few days before and i was going to reuse them.
"don't do it." said one of my postal buddies.
"don't do what?" i asked.
"don't refill bottles like that..you can get cancer from reusing that kind of bottle."
recently i had a similar discussion with another friend at work. he went online, did some research and found that the whole plastic bottle/cancer thing was a myth.
on the other hand, cheryl crowe insists that it was one of the reasons she developed breast cancer.
what to do?
"just go to the store and buy yourself a real water bottle that is meant to be reused" my buddy told me.
so i went to the store and bought this pretty pink, overpriced bottle but felt good about it because it would help me avoid getting cancer AND proceeds from the sale of it would benefit breast cancer.
Ahhhh...a perfect solution.
problem solved.
so i brought the bottle to work and proudly showed my pal.
" i don't know" he said, "that looks kind of flimsy to me. you need the HARD plastic kind that won't get creases in it..that's what releases the bad toxic junk into your drinking water".
problem not solved.
so now it's 80 degrees and i head out to the street with my brand new empty water bottle to deliver mail in the grinding heat..
dehydration vs. potential cancer.
life is so complicated sometimes.

what a way to go

this is an actual sign that i took down from the wall
by the timeclock
inviting fellow emloyees
to celebrate
carl's
last day
of
work.




one of my pals stated very aptly:
"after 30 years of dedicated service,they give you a round of applause and a swift kick in the ass out the door".
oh, yeah, and a handmade sign hung on the clock referring to you as an a***hole.
"is this sad or funny?" i asked Keith and Tom.
they agreed the answer is :both.

so close yet so far apart

i was just cruising along like any other day.
trucking across the lawn..when BAM!
i stopped in my tracks.
what stopped me was the cover of the magazine i was about to deliver.
the mag was Fortune.
on the cover was a picture of two women.
the text read " The 50 most powerful women in America".
why did that stop me in my tracks?
because one of the woman on the cover, now a president of one of the largest companies in the US, back in another lifetime was just an anonymous gal bellied up to an irish bar across from East High School when i happened to order a drink.
we made small talk, had a few chuckles and by evening's end she and her pal and i exchanged phone numbers.
we actually got together about 4 or 5 times.
then we lost track of each other.
now i know why.
she had some serious "stuff" to do.
doubt she would even remember "our time together".
but i sure do.

keep off the grass ( and the driveway)

one of the minor annoyances of being a mailcarrier is the "DO NOT CROSS LAWN" order.
certain lawn obsessed customers contact the post office and set up a special request for the carrier not to walk across their lawn. you would think that the customers that request this service would have a picture- perfect-manicured-to-the-max type of lawn.
you expect to get out there and see some fastidious landscaping out of the pages of Better Homes and Gardens, but sadly this usually isn't the case.
mostly it's just your garden variety complainer finding yet another venue in which to dump their generalised control issues.
ms. ribble has such an order.
her yard is 90% burned out grass and 10% neglected garden.
every day i square off her yard and walk from the street up her driveway.
every day i hope to see some improvement in her yard that will make her DO NOT CROSS order legitimate.
it hasn't happened yet.
she is good at giving landscaping advice though.
one of her neighbors told me that she yelled across the street at his wife for taking down a tree. she was screaming that the tree was irreplaceable and now the value of the neighboring property was going to go down as a result.
the odd thing is that the neighbor she was bitching at has THE best landscaping on the street.
ms. ribble's other next door neighbor does have something new in their lawn.
a FOR SALE sign.
jees..i wonder why?

change is NOT always good

Customers can sometimes be
rather presumptuous.

(very) fringey benefits

one benefit of delivering the mail is that we get to check out all of the goofy
magazine headlines. you know the ones i'm talking about..National Enquierer, Star...
i'm a total sucker for tabloids.
not just the ones about brit's meltdown and lindsay's lasted rehab stint...
but the really over the top kind that tell you the latest home remedies for curing cancer. the best of which is the Sun. it always has such great teasers on the front that you just have to take a peek inside.
on the cover today was an article promising to tell you the exact day and time the world will end.
how could i not check that out?
so as a public service i'm passing the info on to you.
March 15, 2008..4:32 pm.
They didn't mention if that was eastern standard time, but i'll assume it is.
on the next page was an article about weather-proofing your home for winter.
if we're all gonna bite the dust on March 15th, i say, why bother?

one of the main reasons i took this job

it's all about the uni!
not that the uniform actually looks good or anything. far from it.
there is something about wearing high waisted polyester pants with a nice fat stripe running up the side that makes you feel like you're stuck in a recurring high school marching band nightmare.
and the pith helmet always elicits the "going on safari?" line from our hysterical customers. they're SO clever those customers!
looks aside, it is the uniform that initially drew me to the job.
i think this is probably due to the traumatising experience of having to call in sick one day at my first professional job out of college because i had nothing to wear. getting dressed is a major league pain in the ass if you're a woman.
too many choices.
too much ironing.
too much time.
too much thought.
too much energy.
so every day, after years of putting on the same ugly old uniform, i still think of that sick call back in 1982..and say thank god for this ugly old uniform.
real simple. real, real simple.
that's the way (uh-huh uh-huh) i like it.

legit

after 20 years of dragging the bag around i finally feel legit.
sure i've had a few dog bites in my day but even those didn't do it for me.
today on the advice of two fellow carriers i went to visit Dr. K.
no, he's not a shrink.
he's a chiropractor.you're really not a mailcarrier until your back is completely screwed up beyond belief.
since making the appointment several weeks ago, lots of questions have been running through my mind.
is he going to sneak up on me from behind and snap my neck without warning?
if so will that cause me to have a stroke from which i will never fully recover?
is he really going to be able to diagnose me without seeing an X-ray, or reading any charts about me?
are chiro's for real or just modern-day hucksters?
i know that people swear by them..but i had my doubts.
everyone assured me that he would be gentle....
he'd probably loosen my back using a big buffer type thing or maybe a nice heat-producing machine.
he did neither.
he talked to me for a few minutes and seemed entirely sure of exactly what my problem was AND that he could fix it.
the next thing you know i'm lying face down on the table waitng for the torture to begin.
5 minutes later i'm walking out of there feeling like a half a million bucks.
after next week's session i may very well feel like a full million.
i don't understand it.
but Dr. K is for real..and he's my new best friend.

when customers attack

I can live with a dog that goes slightly crazy when you set foot on their property. i get the whole territorial nature of dog vs. mailman. i've been playing the game for a while.
what i can't live with is the owner who sees his dog react aggressively to you and then instead of offering to get control of his dog, tells you that his dog NEVER acts this way toward ANYONE else ..including previous mailcarriers.
His take on the whole situation is that I am afraid of dogs and his dog senses it.
Therefore???
I'm the problem??
Yes, i guess you ARE the problem he assures me.
Does this guy even realize how self centered he is?
I'm just trying to do my damn job.

I wanted to straighten him out..and give him a double shot of reality.
No, I'm not the problem.
And your dog is NOT the problem.
Hmmmm... that leaves..YOU !

Instead i said OK then i guess i'm the problem and stormed away with a trail of dark smoke pouring out of my ears.

can't wait for our next encounter!

and now a word about mailslots

They suck.


okay that's two words.
so i might as well continue the rant.
bad enough that we have to slow down to put your mail through your door..sometimes
one piece at a time
but come on now, did you have to place the thing two inches from the ground so we
have to get into full crouch mode and then hold that position while stuffing in
every last
one of your fatass catalogs that get jammed half of the time because your slot is
TOO SMALL?
do me a favor. on tuesday when you get all of your post-labor day mail, pick it up,
go outside and actually deliver it to yourself. not too bad? now multiply that
experience by 50..then by 5 days a week for the next ten years. yes, i want you to
feel my pain.
look. just skip the christmas tip this year and INSTALL A MAILBOX.

sincerely,
your loving letter carrier (specifically my knees and back)


p.s. have a nice day

What not to say to your mailcarrier

As a public service I will now post a partial list of things NOT to say to your mailcarrier ever again. Thank you.

1)Do not say the following when referring to your dog: a) "He's friendly"
b) "He doesn't bite!"
c) "He's just looking for a treat."
d) "Don't worry, he probably just wants to lick you to death".

2) It's not cute, funny, or original to say :
a)" No bills today..only checks!"
b) "Where is my million dollar check from Publisher's Clearinghouse?"
c) " All you brought me is JUNK!"
d) "You might as well just throw it all in the recycling bin!"

3) If you feel inclined to speak about the weather at all, stay away from:
a) "Hot enough for you?"
b) "Is your truck air-conditioned?"
c) "Cold enough for you?"
d) "Stay dry/cool/warm!"
e) "Don't get wet!"
f) "Nice day..if you're a duck!"

4) Don't ask us if we work half days on saturdays..or worse yet..don't say "Have a nice weekend." when you see us on a friday. By now you should have figured out that you get the mail on saturdays and it is our tired old resentful asses that bring it to you.

5) We especially hate when we've been your carrier for 5 years and you ask us if we're "the regular on the route".

6) When we hand you the mail don't ask us "Is that all there is?".
Along the same lines, don't point to a magazine on the bottom of the stack we're holding and say "Are you sure that's not mine?"

7) When the price of stamps goes up, please don't make snide comments about all of us "getting a raise."
When the price of gas goes up, would you say the same thing to the guy that works at the gas station?

8) If you happen to see us grabbing our half-hour lunch, don't say something like "There's our federal tax dollars at work!"

This is a partial list.
Try your best not to go "customer" on us, and we will try not to go postal on you.

I'm just a girl that can't say ..BYE-BYE!!!!

So, I've got this customer.Nice guy. Kind of slow. Rumor is he had a brain injury. He saw me on TV and now comes to the mailbox everyday to chat. Chatting is not a bad thing, necessarily, but there is a time and PLACE for it. And his mailbox is NOT the place. Let me explain. His mailbox is what we at the PO call a rural box. The kind of box that is mounted on a post that you drive up to to deliver . His street is very busy and his box is located frighteningly close to an equally busy intersection . The road widens somewhat eventually, but in front of his house it is really narrow. It's the kind of situation where every day you want to make it through that stetch as quickly as possible. Early in my career I saw a carrier's jeep get mangled there...the carrier got thrown from his vehicle..it was nasty. That image has stayed with me VIVIDLY all these years.
Yesterday Mr. K came out for his chat. He was particularily long winded. I learned all about the history of Kodak, and many, many details about his children, and his grandchildren..especially the messed up one. With each new story I became more and more nervous about being rear ended. I had been there too long. I was pushing my luck. I wanted to tell him that I really had to go, but he seemed so lonely. He kept talking. I kept envisioning my ambulance ride to Strong Memorial hospital..bravely trying to joke with the EMT's as blood gushed from my eyes. It looked like he was winding down the conversation when suddenly he hit upon a brand new topic. The topic was ..how strange it was that so many people in his family had been REAR ENDED lately.
Sometimes I just can't believe this stuff actually happens to me.

nightmare on A street

ever have a nightmare playing itself out in real life?
as a kid I had three recurring nightmares. one was about being trapped inside a soap bubble, another was about a revolving bookcase that swung around with a dead body on the other side, and my most popular whacked out dream was that my teeth started falling out one by one.

the other day i was delivering to the very last house on my route. i was there at my usual time, around 3:45. they were having a garage sale and someone parked in front of their box, so i got out to bring the mail to my customer who was in her garage watching over her sale items. we had never really met each other so I introduced myself. she was a nice enough lady. we made some small talk, while another person entered her garage..(by the way it's a one car garage). Out of the corner of my eye i could see just enough of this peson to identify her as none other than MS. RIBBLE!..
The absolute last person i want to be jammed into a small space of any kind with..let alone a garage sale at ( gasp!) 3:45 pm!!! I could see the thought bubble over her head and it said " Yep..it figures..she's slacking off again..shopping when she's supposed to be working . No wonder our mail is always so late !!! (Harumph!).
I exited rapidly..glad to escape from that nightmare.

Mrs. H

I met her over 15 years ago while covering a postal buddy's route while he was on vacation.
Mrs. H was probably in her 90's and living quite happily alone . I think she had some family in town that would check on her, as did my postal buddy.
When I came to her house , I would make a lot of noise while putting her mail in the box to get her attention. I just wanted to make sure she was up and around.

I remember talking to her a few times. She said one thing to me that I will never forget.
Like probably everyone else that encountered her, I was curious to know her secret for keeping so vibrantly healthy after all these years.
This was her advice:" Stay away from fruits and vegetables!!! Just eat the stuff that you really enjoy"! I was awestruck! Her advice stands as one of the most wonderful things I have ever heard come out of anyone's mouth.
From time to time, as I consume some completely decadent delight, I hear her words bouncing around my brain and feel absolutely no guilt whatsoever. Thanks for that small gift Mrs. H...wherever you are.

mrs. T

I remember Mrs. T from 10 years ago when I used to cover her route once a week on the regular mailman's day off. For some reason I had it in my head that she was a complainer ..or at least... a customer to be leery of.
She is now my customer and officially becoming one of my favorites.
We started off well. Probably because her last carrier paved the way for me.
When I took over for Brian, she was very welcoming, and I was very surprised.
The key to our relationship now seems to be that her little dog likes me. She took that as a good sign.
On saturday we had our first extended conversation...and it was nothing short of a revelation.
She seems to be one that plays her cards close to the vest..not one to disclose much about her life.. but I think I hit her at the right time.
The more she talked, the more completely blown away I became.
I knew that her husband died a few years ago after a very long illness. What I didn't know was that within 2 weeks of his death, she signed up to go back to college after about a 60 year hiatus. She wound up getting her degree at 80 years old. She plays the trombone in a senior citizen band, she's taking a music course at a local college, volunteers, and here's the best part...REFUSES to go out to lunch with "the ladies" because it will cut into her day and she doesn't want to sit around and hear about people's aches and pains. You go girlfriend!
this job really has it's golden moments and our conversation was definitely one of them.

helpful larry?

my mailman buddy Larry was making a delivery to a nursing home yesterday when he saw a person in a wheelchair heading full tilt for a busy road. Kicking into "hero" mode, he stopped the resident before they got into traffic. he thought he did a good deed, but then figured out that the person was trying to escape. what he really did was wreck their shot at freedom. i guess the wheelchair has an alarm on it that gets set off when they bust a move for the exit. staff people were making a b-line for the resident like he was an escaped convict. hopefully by the time i'm in a nursing home the wheelchairs will be pimped out and i'll be able to leave my well-meaning minders in the dust.

a tale of two customers

Are you a good witch or a bad witch???
click on these to enlarge..

(for some reason couldn't get

them to scan at a decent size.

i'm such a neophyte !)

route awakewning

I can see him from around the bend. He's sitting down under a maple tree, digging. I can see him, because honestly I am looking for him..hoping that he will be there.
Odd that I would want to see anyone since the temp. is in the 90's and the humidity is insane. Usually under these conditions, the goal is simple... get done ASAP before the sun gets too intense.
But there he is. The only person out. On a day like this I'm usually the only one outside.. and that's because I have to be. Days like this your concerned customers stick their sympathetic heads out the cracked front doors of their AC -cranked -up houses.
But not this customer. I've only had one conversation with him, which left me waiting for the next one.
Mr. B is probably 70 something. There are many striking things about him..but the big three are his earthy laugh, lively eyes and energetic mind. He's a talker..and had me hanging on every syllable.
So now here he is, out in the sweltering heat, digging weeds..one by one with a knife. I know he can afford to have his yard done...I know he's probably got more interesting things to do. His posture is strikingly beautiful; poised, relaxed, almost joyful. He looks more like he's doing yoga than yardwork.
As I approach, I'm almost hesitant to disturb him..(he seems to actually be enjoying himself) but my curiosity gets the best of me. I walk over and ask him how he's doing. Before I know it I find myself sitting down under the tree with him..breaking the cardinal " keep your ass moving/ beat the heat" rule.
He told me about the person that turned his life around when he tried to drop out of high school. He told me about his frustration while starting his PhD at Cornell. He told me about his love of mathematics, and details about some of his own theories on quantum physics. He told me about his latest project..Project Genesis.. where he is trying to solve the puzzle of how the universe was created.
I left feeling ,enriched, enlightened..INSPIRED. It's not every day that you have the luxury of sitting in the shade on a steamy day with someone you barely know and leaving, in a dreamlike state...saying "Did that really happen?". I just hung out with Stehpen Hawkings, Albert Einstein, the Buddah , and Mr. Greenjeans all wrapped into one delicious person. It was more refreshing than a pitcher of ice cold lemonaide and a lot more memorable.

the good old days

Today i was delivering to a house that was having a garage sale. while looking around for some treasure, a woman approached me and said " I have to talk to you.. my dad was a mailcarrier way back in the day." According to his daughter he loved his job. She said he was movie star gorgeous, and the women would wait for him and some came to the door naked! (Now we know
one reason why he loved his job.) In 20 years I only remember one scantily clad customer..a college kid with a towel around his waist that invited me in for coffee. A couple of my female co-workers have had some screwballs expose themselves. Somehow it just doesn't seem quite as glamourous as this lady's dad 's encounters "back in the day". By the way, am I the only one that finds it a little odd that her old school father shared this info with her ?
I'm trying to picture myself sitting around the dinner table with my kids and husband..." So how was your day honey?" "Oh, you know, same old same old...lots of parcels, my boss was on my ass again and another buck naked customer came to the door."

And Toto too ?

I've got two words to sum up today's story from the route. AUNTIE EM !
I knew a storm was coming..could see it developing off to the west for at least an hour before it hit....but man did that thing HIT ! There was stuff flying everywhere..(except for my mail which i had a death grip on as i ran for the safety of the truck). The wind was so forceful it felt like the truck might get flipped.
At the time I was petrified. In retrospect it was cool.
One regret: a house didn't fall from the sky and land on Ms. Ribble. Guess that stuff only happens in the movies.

when animals attack...feline edition

when I inherited this route back in May, the previous carrier alerted me to some potentially bad situations that i might encounter. Things like: which customers are frequent P.I.A's , which lawns not to walk across etc. He also wrote up Dog Warning cards ...which are required for each job...and one Cat Warning card. This particular cat had some sort of history of clawing at the mailcarrier as he tried to put the mail through the door slot.
i'll admit right now that i didn't take the warning too seriously. How badly could a little pussycat hurt a tough mailgal like myself ?
Unfortunately, i found out the answer to that question today, and the answer is VERY badly.
That sucker got his claw in me and would not let go. I was SCREAMING like a crazy person. Seriously, it brought back memories of childbirth. Not good.
There was blood everywhere. unbelievable.
to make matters worse, i had to report it to my boss, and report to the medical unit when i returned from my route. i acted like it was no big deal...but secretly i'm wondering if i'm going to come down with some weird cat scratch fever thing that will be the end of me.

happy anniversary to me

I forgot to mention that last wednesday was my 20 year postal anniversary.
In theory, that would mean 20 down and ten to go.
Unfortunately the year that I'm eligible to retire is the same year that my youngest son enters college.
guess that means 20 down, 14 to go.
Twenty years in should merit some kind of booty..a pin, a t-shirt, free stamps, a slap on the back..something. What really happened was I went to the bakery and ordered a cake for myself and a co-worker that shares my anniversary date. That's the reality of the P.O...gotta make it happen yourself.

Food for thought

To offset the pulic's impression of us as a bunch of stark raving lunatics, we do a yearly Food Drive to help fill the local food pantries for the summer months. In the past we have scratched our collective heads over some of the items left for us to pick up....half -eaten boxes of cookies..canned goods with an expiration date of 1995.. caviar....the list goes on and on.

This year's bizzare food drive item wins the all-time prize.. a set of milk chocolate handcuffs ! Try as we might, we could not figure this one out. " Let's see...a can of tuna? No, we gave that last year. How about the chocolate handcuffs? What do ya think honey??

What the hell are they going to put out for us tomorrow..edible underwear?

forget sleet..what about heat?

Who is responsible for penning the postal motto about Rain, sleet, snow and hail ? In my humble ( but nonetheless correct) opinion it needs to be amended to read: Rain , HEAT, snow and dogs.
How often does it actually SLEET ? Almost never. Heat is the true enemy of mail carriers.
Most people ask " How do you do it in the winter..delivering in the snowdrifts and freezing weather?". When it's cold we put on more clothes..lots and lots of strategic layers of wonderfully effective hi-tech gear.
The problem comes when it's hotter than hell..we can't very well take our clothes off. We can't put our underwear in the freezer the night before. We just have to kind of suck it up. Slam on the safari hat, and hope for a breeze. We also hope that absolutely no one asks " Is it hot enough for you?" and pray that many people will take pity on us and invite us in for something to drink. ( One time an elderly couple asked me in for a glass of lemonade and somehow I wound up on a 15 minute tour of their house which found me jammed inside their walk-in closet with the wife's lingerie two inches from my face..but that's another story).
Drinking plenty of fluids... means 8 glasses a day, right ? Not if you're out on your route and it's 90 degrees .
Then it's about 8 glasses every ten minutes. Weird stuff happens to your brain if you don't drink enough. Yesterday, after many hours in the sun with no break, no breeze and insufficient water intake, my mind started playing tricks on me. Driving to deliver the last street on my route, I saw something outside of my vehicle, smushed on the road. It was a road kill for sure, but to me, in my severely dehydrated delirium, I SWORE it was a dead baby pig..here comes the weird part...WITH WINGS. I was so sure about it that i almost turned the truck around to get a second look. Made me think about the expression.." when pigs fly".
Obviously, this one tried and it didn't work out so well.
Most people get wacked out when they drink too much. Guess the same thing can happen when you don't drink enough...

pump up the volume

there is this one gal on my route. i don't want to call her a first class bi-otch, so let's just be kind and say that she seems to be missing the pleasantness gene.
no matter how friendly i am, she greets me with the same pissed off look on her face.
the only time she actually spoke to me, she "congratulated" me for "breaking the record "for delivering her mail later than ANY other carrier. Wow! Only three weeks on the job and i'm already rewriting the record book. Aren't I something!
Foolishly, i tried to explain that i had delivered the route backwards to avoid getting stuck on her street during the mobfest that was her neighborhood garage sale. she was not buying it.
obviously, there was NO acceptable excuse for my tardiness.
i temporarily pondered " congratulating" her for being THE most miserable customer i had EVER dealt with in my 20 years in the P.O. but instead, held my tongue and went along my merry way wondering what would cause someone to become such a bitter pill.
a couple days ago i was listening to a talk show on NPR while delivering the mail near her house. as usual, i had the volume on my transistor at a politely low setting. the show was an interview with an author that was plugging her new book about happiness. it was very engrossing. as i approached Ms. Ribble's house, i reflexively thought about turning the volume down as i always do when in her yard so as to avoid her wrath. this woman definitely does not need one more thing to be annoyed by.
my finger was on the volume control. her front door was open. the author was hitting a fevered pitch about the importance of finding some sort of happiness in life.... how it doesn't have to be elusive. I turned the volume UP. it was for her own good. then i walked on. feeling happy.

Wicked funny

A conversation I had with one of my customers yesterday keeps replaying in my head.
It was only the second time we'd ever spoken.
The first time we talked, he warned me about a huge upcoming neighbhood garage sale that might cause me some problems with parking. I thanked him for the heads up and that was pretty much the whole encounter.
When I saw him yesterday he asked me how I survived the garage sale. Then, before I knew it he was giving me a fascinating history of the neighborhood.
It was built in the 1920's for Kodak employees. The builders came over from Germany and were exquisite craftsman. The homes are picture perfect..well manicured tudors. Each house is unique. It is a beautiful area and with one notable exception the people are unusually friendly. The whole place feels charmed.
"Do you know that in all of my 30 years living here it has NEVER rained on one of our garage sales , parades or picnics ?"
"Wow ..that's amazing !"
"Do you want to know our secret?"
Of course I did.
"You can't tell anyone" he said moving closer and lowering his voice.
Of course I wouldn't.
"The night before each one of our events, we sacrifice one child from the street. One unattractive, not very bright child". " With the parents permission of course".
Of course.
"And" he said "there's a waiting list".
Yup. I think I'm gonna like this route.

through rain, sleet, snow and exactas

Two saturdays ago, my co-worker X, was called up to the bedroom of his elderly and infirm customer. She had a request for him.
No, not " Would you please mail this for me?" or " Could you buy me some stamps?".
Instead she wanted him to place an exacta bet for the Kentucky Derby at the Off Track Betting parlor, located one town over from his route.
Did he fulfill that request?
You bet he did (pardon the pun). . even helped her pick the second horse. They almost won the darn thing too...the second horse came in third!
The things we do for our customers.
One bet I feel very safe in making is that this lady gives him a BIG old tip at Christmas.
He may not be the best at giving tips on horses, but when it comes to getting Christmas tips from nice old ladies, he is a complete stud.

Fringe benefits

some jobs give you a christmas bonus , trips to Vegas, and an expense account.
so far, after one week on my new route I've been given a hummingbird feeder and two ceramic ducks. i was also offered size 9 shoes ( several pair) and half a bottle of Peach Schnapps..but had to turn that stuff down.
All in all a pretty good haul...and all from the same customer. Wonder what if anything the other 300-and -some will come up with.

Thoughts from the Route

It's a blue collar job. Not very sexy. No status. But there's something about it..something old school...something retro..nostalgic... something timeless. I've been at it for 20 years now and while there are days that are decidedly not fun, I mostly love it. I love the way some customers greet you like you're their long lost relative even though you saw them the day before. I love the high maintenance mail obsessed ones that seem like their day is made or broken by what you put in their mailbox. I love the nasty ones that give you practice in learning to keep your cool under fire. I love that even though they piss me off I never call them an a-hole until I'm at least 30o ft. away. As much as I may have wanted to, I'm proud to say I have never maced a customer.
So this will be my compost pile. A place to put my stories and the stories of other mail carriers. We'll see what it all comes to be.
I started a new route last week , so I will be coming to know a completely new cast of characters. Change is good. It feels like an adventure.