A Letter to My Creepy Mailman

Dear “Creepo”

I need you to know that you have officially passed the line of overly friendly mailman to official creep that I avoid at all costs.  When I am mowing the lawn (which I actually love to do) don’t approach me to talk about whatever it is you think is important enough to force me to turn off the mower twice so I can hear you.  Since I actually enjoy mowing the lawn this is comparable to trying to strike up a conversation with someone who is in the middle of a workout.  After all I am sweating my ass off and focusing on my straight lines in the lawn.

Your talking and talking is obnoxious.  Some people are talkers.  I am one myself.  So for me to say your talking is excessive is saying a lot.  You have done kind things, like taking the extra garbage can from the unoccupied house down the street and moving it to mine so I had two receptacles, without me ever asking.  Although I doubt that is legal because technically we pay for each can.

But Bernie when you wrote this on the back of a birthday card that was mailed to me, you crossed the line. You WROTE on my mail (which unless an urban legend I swore that is illegal), I repeat, YOU WROTE on my mail.  What you wrote is the most disturbing.


You LOVE my HAT? What the fuck is that?  Because the last time I checked I have NEVER seen you when I was wearing any of my hats.

Keep your pen off my mail.


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