My mailman is a very nice fellow named Rusty. Our conversations are generally limited to exciting topics such as the weather and the amount of mail I recieve in a given day. I am confident that I am the only person on his route who reads People Magazine and The Journal of American History. For five years we have maintained a nice, if very distant, relationship.
Yes, I see and speak to my mailman at least once a week.
This morning, however, was different. As Rusty handed over the usual pile I said something like, "poor Shania Twain" as her marital problems have been on the cover of People for weeks. To say that Rusty is upset about Twain's personal life is like saying that the Pacific Ocean has a few fish. Rusty is appalled at what has happened, thinks that the "other woman" is not only evil and awful but "really ugly, how could you leave a woman like Shania for her? What is he thinking?" Rusty expressed these views and several others on the subject with a passion truly beyond my descriptive abilities.
Nice to see someone who is always so professional (and I mean that, truly) reveal just a crack of what makes him tick.
2 comments:
That Mutt is a real dog.
I grew up knowing the mailman and the milkman (oops, my age is showing!) Our milkman even had coffee with my parents in our kitchen the days he delivered our goodies.
Our mailman's name is Paul and he's like one of the family. I give him baked goodies at Christmas and he's even helped my husband with woodworking projects in our garage. I buy Girl Scout cookies from his daughter too.
I love that we live in a small enough town to still have these pleasantries.
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