We have an angry mail-lady who hates people.
Without eye contact she'll begrudgingly throw out, 'Good morning," and then she'll keep moving as quickly as possible. Man, that lady wouldn't put me out if I were on fire.
Hey, I'm not really a "shouting good morning to strangers kind of person," but I enjoy forcing this bitter chick into speaking to me. It just wouldn't hurt her one bit.
And she hates dogs, which I guess is to be expected from a postman, but I think she takes it too far. Sometimes (if she gives me more than one second to answer before walking away), I have to open the door to sign for a package. My little dog Acorn will squeeze passed me and dance in a circle on her hind legs like a circus act, displaying utter joy, but Angry Mail-Lady will instantly put her hand on her can of mace. She'll snap, "Get that dog away from me!"
I've already grabbed Acorn by now, but hands aren't off the mace, and as I shove happy Acorn back into the house behind me, I'll say, "I'm sorry, but she's very very friendly."
The dog is BACK INSIDE THE HOUSE, and she still say it again, "Keep that dog away from me!" Sometimes she'll say it even if Acorn doesn't make it outside; she's just peeking through a crack in the door.
Then as Angry Mail-Lady goes next door she'll find the neighbor's tiny dog on the porch doing absolutely nothing, and I'll hear the same thing. "Keep that dog away from me."
Grrrr. Rah, I've got mail to deliver---everyone leave me the hell alone!
Scary and ferocious Acorn!
But boy does Angry Mail-Lady like talking on the phone. Constantly.
If I'm sitting in the living room---hell, if I'm in the back of the house----I can hear her approach our door blabbering at the top of her lungs into that earpiece right before she slams mail into the box. I can still hear her talking and griping as she walks on to the neighbor's house. I've already heard way too much of her personal business by now.
Hey, I don't care if she talks on the phone. She's got to get bored walking around all day, so why not catch up with family and friends. I do care that she talks so loudly at my door that I sometimes think someone fuming mad has walked up and is about to beat on the door and yell at me for something. Can't she tone it down on the doorsteps? No, I guess not.
Sure I can talk now! As loudly as I want!
I also do really mind that she CRUMPLES UP MY MAIL AND SHOVES IT IN THE BOX. I know the box is too small for a things like magazines not to be folded, but she can't take two seconds to do it neatly---no, she jams it in, ripping anything that doesn't fit. BAM! SCRAPE! Get that mail in the box as quickly as possible at any cost. And, by golly, LEAVE THAT LID OPEN SO THAT RAIN ALWAYS GOES RIGHT INTO THE BOX. Yeah, that's it, Angry Mail-Lady. Thanks. It only rained like 125 days in a row this year.
Ok, so the other day it occurred to me that we could actually buy a bigger mailbox. The house came with that tiny one, and somehow I just didn't really think about the fact that it's ours to replace. So I went to look at mailboxes and picked one that is as big as an unfolded magazine---should fit all the mail we could possibly get, and there's no way the lid could ever not fit to close again.
What stupid thing to be excited about, but I was. But, as per my luck, I pulled the mailbox from its package when I got home and found a giant dent in it. Now I realize the box kinda must have already been opened, but I can't imagine the scene where the previous owner took it out, punched it, and placed it back in the box to return for a refund. Weird.
Anyways, I bought a new mailbox again, and Aaron hung it, and I could just imagine that the Angry Mail-Lady would be super frustrated not to be able to vent by crumpling and jamming in our mail---no, it'll fit too loosely. Just not possible. But ya know how she gets us back for buying the new mailbox? She still leaves the lid wide open so that it will rain inside. I know it's not an accident.
I've heard that folks leave Christmas gifts and such for their mailmen. Boy, there's just no way. If anything I'd like to have one of those boxing gloves on a spring that bounces out of the mailbox when she opens the lid.
All ya had to do was shut the lid last time...
But ya know, we have a substitute mailman who is only around our neighborhood about 5% of the year ---that guy says hi to everyone. That guy has recognized me and my dogs when I was blocks from my house. He's so sweet that my neighbor rushes out to hand him a soda when she sees him coming. This picture is for him:
Post Office Gripe #548