The Postman Screws Me Twice

It’s not as salacious as it sounds….TRUST ME.

I thought this was funny and worth sharing because as it was happening, I kept thinking that it seemed like a plot in a slapstick silent film. So predictable and so ridiculous. For optimal reading pleasure, picture the story in black and white with an old timey piano score and me as Charlie Chaplin moving super fast.

Let me set the scene:

My apartment, while tiny, has a massive window that overlooks the street.

One of the walls in my apartment is shared with the mailboxes in the lobby.

(And when I say “lobby” I mean the tiny entrance before the stairs. Don’t let me fool you. There is no door man. Unless you count the older gentlemen who smokes shirtless outside the front door.)

I had ordered a couple of things online in the span of a week: A modem from my new internet service provider (suck it, Rogers) and The League Season 2. I opted for the cheapest shipping option so they were going to be surprise arrivals.

One day, I had a Friday off from work. I stayed home and watched TV (naturally).

Around lunchtime, as I sat in my usual spot (see diagram above) I heard the sound of the mailboxes being opened and filled by the mailman. I perked up in anticipation and strummed my fingers like Mr. Burns:

Silently squirming like a little boy in footed pajamas waiting to open his Christmas presents, I listened as the mailboxes closed and anticipated a knock at my door. But, there was no knock.

So no package today. Like a sad puppy, I watched through the window as the mailman hopped into his truck and drove away.

About an hour later, I was on my way out for a stroll (to the store to buy junk food, naturally) and I stopped to check my mailbox.

Inside my mailbox was the “sorry we missed you” slip for packages they are supposed to hang on your door after knocking and waiting at least 30 seconds. My mailman, trying to rush through his Friday, made ZERO attempt to knock on my door. If you refer back to the diagram above, you can see that from where I was sitting while listening to the mail getting sorted through the wall, there is NO WAY I could have missed his knock. And clearly he didn’t knock because the slip was in my mailbox instead of hanging on my door handle. My door is the closest door to the lobby. He couldn’t walk up five steps and knock?! Mother fucker.

So now, I had to wait until at least 5:00pm, drive to the post office in rush hour, and wait in line with all the other sorry suckers duped by their mailman. It wasn’t my happiest time in line. Arms crossed. Toe tapping. Eyes rolling. Muttering under my breath like Joe Pesci in Home Alone:

I got my package, which turned out to be the modem, and that was that.

The following Friday, I booked the day off to wait around to get my internet set up (hence the modem). As I sat in my usual spot on the couch across from the window, I happened to notice the mail truck pull up.

Again, I sat in silence as I listened to the mailman open the mailboxes and deposit the mail. I figured surely the same thing that happened last week couldn’t possibly happen again this week. My life isn’t that much of a joke. Still, I inched closer to the door this time, key in hand, so I could do a quick check of my mailbox before he left. In hindsight, I should have just went out there as he was depositing the mail and asked him then if there were any packages. But I didn’t want to be rude and insinuate that he can’t do his job properly.

Well, he can’t.

The second I heard the mailboxes close I whipped out of my apartment, opened my mailbox and sure enough, found the “sorry we missed you” slip jammed inside. In a raging fury, I slammed the mailbox door and ran out of the building just as the mailman was hopping into his truck. I waved my arms frantically and jumped up and down.

He sped away. I stood dumbfounded. Then…

Ok, that part didn’t actually happen. But it did in my head.

I immediately called Canada Post to complain.

So again, on a Friday, I had to wait until 5:00pm to go down to the post office and wait in line. The package, as you may recall, was The League Season 2, which would have been amazing to watch as I sat and waited for the internet guy to show up (which, of course, was after 4:00pm. I took the day off for nothing).



9 thoughts on “The Postman Screws Me Twice

  1. Great story, but…where is the part where the damsel in distress was tied to the train tracks by the bad guy wearing black with a pencil-thin moustache?

    I feel like the story is incomplete until that happens…

    1. Great article, thanks! “Delivered to a hedge” hahahahaha, so everyone is feeling my pain. Good to know!

  2. Mailmen, ugh! I hate those “We missed you!” slips with a passion! Lazy mother…oh, sorry, I’ll tone it down. Funny story though. Although, you can request for them to redeliver, instead of going to the post office. I practically refuse to go to post offices. 😀

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