May 31, 2006

Going Postal

Sitting here minding my own business, feverishly working, trying hard NOT to blow a deadline on about a thousand designs for a new product line when I hear a faint beeping. Sounds like down the street. Doesn't even warrant a turn around (my back faces the window looking out the front of the house). There is lots of traffic on my road and someone beeping is not news. Sometimes friends will beep as they drive by. If I turned around every time that happened A) I would get no work done and B) I would have whiplash. Daily.

Still working. Hear beeping again. Peaks my interest slightly. I turn around. Nothing.

Working. Beep again. Longer laying on the horn. Now, I get up out of my chair to see if I can actually lay my eyes on the asshole with the horn fetish. Look left. Nothing. Look right, towards the driveway. BINGO. Mail truck pulled all the way into the driveway.

But. Wait.
Is the Mail Man BEEPING FOR ME??

I mean fucking laying on the horn??!!

The front door is OPEN - so he KNOWS I'm home. The glass door is locked but the door bell works. I walk down the stairs and out the front door. Large black man.

He is BEHIND his truck.

"Not sure that were ACTUALLY beeping for me."

Hesitantly walking toward me, "I thought I saw a dog at the front door."

I choked on the sour cream and onion potato chip I had in my mouth, "Its a cat."

"Well, it looked like a dog."

"Its NOT, its a cat. AND he's on the inside of the house. With the door shut. Even if it were a dog - there's a glass door between you."

"Looks like a dog."

"Well, he might bite you - but I don't have a dog."

"One of the other postmen got bite by a dog in this town yesterday."

"Its not a dog."

"Whatever."

"You BEEPED for me to come out. I still can't believe that."

"We have to be EXTRA careful." Gets in mail truck drives away. I'm almost certain I saw his balls behind the trash can.

Ya know why people go POSTAL at the Post Office?? Because they hire fucking retards, that's why.

Here's a picture of the ferocious CatDog.



I mean - the fact that he might be GAY is scary. But, he's not a dog.

9 Comments:

At 3:10 PM, Blogger Michele said...

Personally, I find the skirt rather threatening.

 
At 7:43 PM, Blogger Sheri said...

lmao - oh my God - that's funny. Poor mailman.... leaving his balls around like that.

My mailman/lady beeps at me all the time becuase she can't shove all the mail into the box.

 
At 1:43 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

are you kidding me? Pulled in your driveway and beeped for you to come out? who works for who here? and because of a rather nicely dressed kitty? I have a 130 Mastiff and my mailman asked me if he could "meet" her so they would both be OK with it when he came up on the porch.

 
At 9:29 AM, Blogger macboudica said...

My mailman is weird, too. One example of his strangeness is when he came to the door with some registered letter or something this past winter. I was still in my shorts and a tank top. He looked me up and down and asked me if I was cold. He said it is always cold at his house. OK. Right. Buh-bye now.

 
At 12:40 PM, Blogger Wendy said...

Your mailman would never survive here. Not only does everyone have a dog, but I swear even dogs have dogs. Our mailman carries dog biscuits in his car, so our dogs love him. I do have an evil cat who would think nothing of clawing out the mailman's eyes.

 
At 2:44 PM, Blogger Penny Karma said...

Didn't Ball-less Mailman Guy realize that The Lovely Mr. Kitty put on his fanciest drag queen finery to greet him at the door, only to be stood up? That mailman's basic social graces are equivalent to those of a garden slug.

Shit, I would have thought he was picking my kid up for carpool or something.

 
At 2:59 PM, Blogger Heather said...

Okay, I'm totally laughing my ass off at that ridiculous mailman. Apparently he needs a pair of glasses - to find his balls, AND to see that it is in fact a CAT. Dork.

(Found you thru Sherry ;-)!)

 
At 1:31 PM, Blogger HomeFireBlue said...

Fuck! That's the scariest looking dog I've ever seen!

You're v. lucky. Here, the postman isn't allowed to leave his vehicle. If there's a parcel too big for the box they leave a slip. Since my postman knows me he honks and that saves me a trip to the post office. (I DO, however, have to drop the laundry basket, snatch the baby up, search for my shoes, threaten the older kids, lurch up the 28foot hallway and BURST out the door before he leaves, 'cause he honks twice and zips off.)

(Bastard)

-Blue

 
At 2:22 PM, Anonymous lala said...

Is he the mascot for the Pussy Posse? A cross dressing kitty? Nice skirt, animal torturer.
Of course I mean that you torture them with FASHION, not with violence.

 

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