Lawn Bomb

One of the hazards of the mailman biz is dogs. Of course!, you say, but it's not aggressive dogs, it's dog poop. Old poop, fresh poop, hiding in lawns all over town. And since I'm staring intently at the mail in my arms and not where my feet are landing, it can lead to stinky problems. Nobody wants to sit in a mailmobile that reeks of dog poop.

My so-far worst incident has been with a pile of...I'm not sure it was poop, and I'm not sure it was from a dog. Whatever put it on the lawn, the substance itself, judging from its smell, was the result of an encounter with some bad crab. So it must have been a dog because really? Who else would eat something like that?

It took two days of deordorizing in the bathtub to get the stink off my shoes.

But that was the worst. Usually it's a casual whiff of something not right leading to a sole inspection and vigorous rubbing on a clean patch of lawn. Most of the time? It's not even my shoes; a shift in the wind is bringing up the scent of cow patty from the Arcata bottoms. That's right: when the wind is right, Arcata smells a lot like shit.

Paid Time Off

One week to go, amigos.

I Think I'm Old

And not because I was bitching at some kid to stay offa my lawn, either. No, I think I'm old because of the clutter in my head. Someone at work was singing "Everything Is Beautiful" and I made a crack about the old-timers starting in. Then I remembered Mac Davis singing it, then watching "The Mac Davis Show" on tv. So I shut up.

Later in the week someone asked one of the younger carriers if they knew what an "e-ticket" was. She answered, it's when you get a ticket through your email. No fond memories for her of hoarding and trading Disnleyland ride tickets. We used to keep ours in shoe boxes.

And Skylab? Not a clue.

Sprinkles My Ass

On my way to grab a cup of fair-trade coffee a Subaru almost hit me in the Co-op parking lot. Could only be better if it had been driven by a Tibetan.

Best yet that I didn't actually get hit.

...

Title of the post refers to today's best quote: I walked outside on break (on my way to almost meet the Subaru) and said "Oh, it's sprinkling!" in the same tone you'd use to announce, "ooh, puppies!" To which one of our more grizzled, chain-smokin' carriers replied, "Sprinkles my ass. That's rain."

...

Eleven days and then it's vacation. Rock on!

Purrito

Purloined from I can has cheezburger.com.

McKinleyville

Cruel Numbers

Lee studied himself in the mirror. Shoes—basketball, with an improbable shine—just so, pants sagging just so, knit cap hugging his brain just so. Looking good. He was new enough at this job to still care about the swath he cut through his coworkers. "Okay, babe, I'm off."

"Gimme a kiss." Lee walked into the dining room where Jen sat hunched over her $14-million-dollar sewing machine, the one the size of a pitbull and bristling with knobs and geegaws covered in multi-colored hieroglyphics.

Smooch, right on top of her head. She reached up to give him a pat goodbye on his ass, turned around and looked up with her hand still on the fabric of his jersey. "You're wearing that? Today?"

"Yeah!"

"But why a Barry Sanders jersey?"

"I like Barry Sanders. Besides, nobody I like is playing, so why not?"

"True...but you could wear your Jerry Rice and show some hometown pride?" She smiled.

Oh, he loved it when she smiled. His friends often thought Jen was a bitch, but she almost never smiled for them. Fools. "Jerry? Nah, I don't want people to think I'm rubbing it in."

"But everyone is going to think that's a Deion jersey."

"WHAT? No. No they will not."

"They might."

"This clearly is not a 21. It's a 20."

She was still smiling. "Hon, not everybody loves football that much." She jiggled him playfully by the belt. "Look, I'll give you twenty bucks for every time today someone says something about your Barry Sanders jersey, and you give me twenty every time you get a comment about your Deion Sanders shirt. What do you think?"

Lee kissed her again, headed for the door. "You're on!"

Lee ended up buying Jen a $420 snowboarding parka two days later.