My parents and I are both on rural delivery mail. Why, I'm uncertain, as we both live In Town according to most anyone who would visit our homes. Granted, we live on opposite sides of our one mile by two mile town. (They live on the eastern side of the two mile stretch, I, on the southern end of the one mile half.) Although if you were to get technical, I'd bet the town is larger than one by two if you were to walk it out. Which brings us back to why we live "in town" and yet are on the rural route. Apparently the United States Postal Service drew city lines and never shall we go beyond.
Try THAT in the Johnson County suburbs. And yes, I'm speaking to you Shawnee, Lenexa, and Olathe and your massive western expansion.
Anyhoo....my parents' mail comes between 10:30 and 11 AM most days. Mine comes sometime after 2:30, but always before 3:30. Apparently the rural route driver starts west and heads counterclockwise to deliver. Which kinda bums me out, but that's another blog. One I imagine I've written if you go far enough back in my naval gazing to find it.
So, yesterday I was sitting at my parents' table, drinking my coffee and looking out at the birds when the mailman drove up. Instead of dropping the mail in the box and driving on, he brought a package to the door. My dad met him and I overheard the following conversation:
Is that Amy or Jamie?
It's Jamie, here for coffee.
Does she want her package?
OK, first: Seven years I lived in the last house with the same postman. In seven years he couldn't figure out that neither RMS Vending, nor the compulsive gambler Steven Sanders (I'm only guessing this due to all of the online gambling mags we got for him, (if, on the random googlies Steven Sanders cares about his reputation and finds this....you should have let all those gambling sites know you moved)) were any longer residing in our house. I finally just quit writing "not at this address" and returning them and instead threw them away.
So you can imagine my humor to find that my postman recognized me, recognized my parents, recognized that though I don't have the last name my parents have....that I might want my B&N delivery five hours earlier than I would get it traditionally.
All this on top of Thursday's UPS delivery directly into my garage.
Only in the 'Boro.
Yep, Yep, Yep = all true. Now if I can get the mailman to help me find that darn coffee cup. It's not on the ceiling or in my shoes, Huh! wonder if he is helping Mrs Sr. hide it in the mail box. Strange things do happen on the Boro. Sr.
Our mailman from many years ago, still checks on me when he sees me out somewhere. Wants to make sure I'm still getting mail.
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