Monday, June 14, 2010

The Munchkin


It's another rainy day - steady light rain all morning.  The street is full of puddles as one can tell from the splashing sounds as cars drive by the house.  At one point while reading a news site, I heard a a car door slam, then an angry scream outside... I continued to listen for more sounds indicating there had been an accident or something, and then I heard the mail box flap slam.  Oh it's just our psycho mail lady, I thought.  She's must be back from her Workman's Comp holiday.  Those short little legs make it hard to climb in and out of the van and to climb all those stairs to deliver the mail.  Puts a lot of strain on the back, driving from house to house like that.

Oddly enough, sometimes she just yells at people for reasons one can never quite figure out.  She once responded to a request by an elderly neighbor suffering from cancer to take a letter she wanted to mail, telling her "walk on over to the post box yourself, the exercise will do you good."

She's an angry little troll.


  1. Makes you wonder if she's the type of postal worker who hoards mail in her house, instead of delivering it.

  2. Ouch!
    Too many biting dogs and maybe a lack of a psych eval (do they do that for the government workers?)...nasty...

  3. Once while living in a major inner city neighborhood in throws of renewal—the block still had its token crack house, vacant homes, drug dealers dealing etc.—, it was serviced by a fairly good looking mailman who wasn't very competent in delivering mail to the right houses.

    Over a 5-yr period, we sort of developed a routine taken from an old b/w Laurel & Hardy flick, though at that time I didn't see it as funny.

    I would find myself storming out of the house early in the morning chasing him in my pjs w/wild unbrushed hair demanding my mail after check'g it & discover'g half of it wasn't even mine! Unlike your "postal" lady, he would just laugh at me and say something that would totally disarm me, &/or leaving me silently brewing.

    However, after a couple of yrs there was a change in me & I accepted him as a soul who helped to give a story to the neighborhood. I moved from the area, but returned a few yrs later for a visit and while at a corner stop with windows rolled down, I heard my named called w/the following:

    "Gee, what's a mailman to do when he wants to deliver your mail but you never give the correct address to deliver it."

    I turned towards the voice and saw him standing across the street smiling. We had are routine, and I was the crazy lady on his route!

    I did find out too what might have been the cause of his distraction in carrying out his job properly ... he had a girlfriend on his morning route.

  4. pml:LOL!:<)!
    Too funny!!
    Good for you...!

  5. Is it ever going to stop raining!? It's been raining in UT for weeks! Maybe there is something to the saying "going postal." Hmmmmm...I had a friend who worked for the post office, she said they watched her every move--she couldn't handle the stress and quit. Maybe the stress is getting to the little troll.

  6. Poor Rosie..that is a most unflattering photo...

    Almost like the one of me chosen for the parish directory..


  7. Sara:
    Not to be "bitchy", but I'm afraid that is Rosie's typical expression...I'm sure your photo in the parish directory was very much not like this!

  8. Tara ~ It's been raining in MN and WI for weeks, too! :-( I've built an ark, but it sucks. When yours takes off, will you come by my house and pick up me & my dog? Tell PML that I'll leave a forwarding address for the mailman...


  9. Adoro - funny ... know too we also had a couple local neighbors guys who boasted of being mafia messengers too ...


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