My mailman is kind of a strange ranger. He has cultivated the eighties Tom Selleck stache as a way to draw attention away from his resting bitch face. The dude looks like he has never had a good day in his life. Some of my friends have taken a shine to the guy so I try to give him the benefit of the doubt but it ends today.
Some more back story before I proceed. Our older dog loses his shit when anyone comes to the door. Always has, always will. This includes everyone who lives in the house so the mailman should not feel special. Once, while at a party, the mailman and I ended up trapped in conversation. He asked where I lived and when I told him he froze up. I got ten minutes on why he disliked our dogs and he even went so far as to explain how he writes extensive notes for substitute carriers to beware of my home in particular.
When I asked why he gets freaked out by something that happens EVERY DAY HE DELIVERS TO MY HOUSE he mumbled some nonsense and walked away. I still didn’t write him off then because clearly he is afraid of an animal that would do nothing but lick him severely. (in his defense Nemo does have an intimidating shit flip bark) Anyhow, flash forward to my office getting built and I couldn’t have the dogs wig out every afternoon so I moved the mailbox toward the driveway well away from the front door. Now he sneaks in and out like a relative ninja.
In this time however the US Postal Service has begun delivering Amazon.com packages in an effort to stay alive. This guy couldn’t be more pissed about that development. Today he put my mail in the box then crammed a package in there that shouldn’t have been able to fit. I had to smash the sides of the thing down to pry it out scattering mail into the snow on the front lawn. I realize that this new work load is a burden for what was once a nice cushy walking around outside gig but no need to take it our on me.
So I walked down to his constantly idling wrong side of the road driving jeepish vehicle and mentioned that his recent delivery to my house sucked. He started to get shitty but I asked if he preferred I just take a picture of the situation and complain to his boss rather than bring it to his attention like a man. After some strange silence I told him to just lean any over-sized boxes against the post from now on so he didn’t have to encounter the scary black shadow barking on the other side of an always closed door. I told him I wasn’t trying to be a dick but he smashed the package up pretty good and I was not pleased.
I fully expect to get one third less mail from this point forward.