Tag: postal

NNDR

Ok, so yesterday I am standing in my driveway raking leaves. My favorite postman, I like to call him Dan. I don’t know what his real name is, but I call him Dan. Anyway, Dan drives into my driveway and then backs out and up to my mailbox. I know he saw me – we made eye contact.

Ok we really didn’t make eye contact because I have a very long driveway but there really wasn’t any way that he didn’t see me, standing there, raking leaves hello? Now, I didn’t expect him to hand deliver my mail just because he saw me there. That’s not his job – that’s why we have mailboxes. What made me mad is when I walked down to the mailbox there was a receipt for a registered letter. On it was written “Sorry, I missed you”.

Hello, you saw me standing there. You even went as far as to pull a little bit into the driveway. You couldn’t have driven all the way up to hand me my letter. Instead, now I have to go to the post office tomorrow to pick up the letter because it will sit in your jeep all day today.

Deep breaths…. let it go.

Today, my mailman, Dan, I just love calling him Dan. I don’t know his real name. I don’t know why I call him Dan. Maybe because it gives him a persona. Dan, Dan the mailman.

Today, Dan drove up the driveway. No, wait, I retract that, he backed up the driveway, he put the jeep in park, jumped out and tossed something which I assumed was my mail onto my porch. He was back in the jeep and barreling down the driveway in 30 seconds flat. I had to admire the fact that backing up the driveway made his getaway very smooth. That Dan is pretty stealth. I think he missed his calling.

I was feeling impressed. I went out to collect my mail and all that was out there was a small package. I thought it was a little strange that I had no other mail today. I mean I am LL Bean and Lands End’s wet dream for catalog deliveries. Sometimes, I get them addressed to my full name, an abbreviated version of my name, a misspelled version of my name and a couple addressed to the last three people that lived here, in this house, before me. In other words, I get mail every day.

On a hunch, I decided to check the mailbox and sure enough there was the rest of my mail. OK, Dan, the gauntlet has been thrown.

So guess what Dan, Danny, Dan the Man, my nemesis, I just signed up for Amazon Prime and next week I will start seeing you ever day until I max out my credit cards. Quoting the saying on my favorite cocktail napkin: I don’t like to call it revenge, “returning the favor” sounds much nicer.

NNDR

I have a love-hate relationship with my postal carrier.

I have tried to be nice to him. I always lock the dogs up when he has to come to the door to have something signed. Perhaps I take too long to get them restrained. Maybe he hates me because I accidently kept his pen once.

You may think I am exaggerating, but I have proof.

It is bad enough that he keeps my IRS return receipt letter in his truck and instead puts a “sorry I missed you” note in my box.

Hello, I work from home 99% of the time I am here. Just drive up the damn driveway and check.

At first, he was cordial to me. He tolerated my presence in the neighborhood. But then I did the unthinkable. I became an online Christmas shopper. I ordered gifts for everyone online. It was sooo easy. For me.

I don’t think Dan the postman was impressed. At first, he would drive up the driveway and deposit my finds on my doorstep. Later he would just dump them out, while at the same time banging a one handed U-y. in front of the garage. One day I swear he had his father with him, tossing the packages out the side window.

But I think the real gauntlet was thrown when I started shipping products from my home office. He now had to pick up my packages and store them in his jeep until he got back to the PO. There weren’t that many packages, what else could he possibly have in that jeep besides…. Perhaps… his dad?

I don’t think having to pick up the packages is what pushed him over the edge. I think it was when I started order postal supplies. Free envelopes, boxes, shipping tape and labels delivered to my door or so I thought.

The first shipment arrived fine. The second shipment was so badly mangled that I couldn’t use several of the boxes. The third shipment I swear he threw out the window then ran it over twice. I couldn’t use any of the boxes or envelopes. The fourth shipment never arrived. The fifth shipment I found mysteriously in the woods beside my house, wet and soggy.

Last week, I ordered a couple of Ipad pillows. They were the plush kind that you use in bed or on a plane. I received a shipping notice that they had been deposited at my front door. I kept checking but they never arrived.

It was a miserable freezing rain kind of day. The wind was whipping and the rain came down in torrents at times. I had to run an errand, so on a whim I decided to check the mailbox. Sure enough he had stuffed the pillows half in and half out of the box. The plastic shipping container had been ripped open and because the door to the mailbox was propped open the rest of the mail was saturated.

Although I was pissed, I did not bother reporting him. I have met the Post Master General and he is no prize either.

I decided to take the passive aggressive route. I order supplies once a week whether I need them or not. I use the ones he mangles in my wood stove.

Today, however I made a fascinating find. I now know what dedicated Dan does that takes him so long to deliver the mail.

He is a redeemer.

No he isn’t some special biblical figure …. he collects deposit bottles.

Yup, today I came around the corner just in time to see him zone in on some bottles by the side of the road. He banged one of his infamous U-ies, jumped out of the jeep and snagged the bottles.

Ka-Ching, an extra ten cents earned.

I now know how to get him to deliver my stuff to my door. I plan on leaving my recycle bin out front with a few returnables very visible on the top.