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.
