The Postman Always Rings Twice?

I was reading a post at Alex & Suze's the other day that inspired me to write about my hatred of our mail carrier.

It all started on the second day after we moved in. The postal carriers walk their routes since the houses are so close . I had attached the mail box onto the front of our house as is customary since we live in the city. It was on the right hand side of the door (when exiting the house). I was quite proud of myself for doing the job on my own.

This was our first house, and being that we were young and in love, we took it upon ourselves to do what young lovers do and initiated the family room in the back of the house. The French doors were open since it was a beautiful Spring day.

I looked like a spider on top of my prey as we did our thing on the floor. Suddenly, we heard a knock at the back door (remember, it's open. New house = no curtains or blinds). I jumped off Mr. Sign and quickly looked around for my clothes. Mr. Sign just layed there smirking at me as I scrounged around for my clothes and ended up with Mr. Sign's shirt on.

I sheepishly looked out the door only to be greeted aggressively by the mailman. He began to yell at me about my placement of the mailbox. He said that I had placed it on the wrong side as it was on his left side and that he had to walk up steps to reach it.

I said, "Why are you knocking on our back door? Did you even try the front bell? Isn't it your job to get the mail into the box no matter what side it's on?" He told me to move the box or he wouldn't deliver the mail.

And so began a 14 year hate/hate relationship with the mail jerk. None of the neighbors cared for him either. He married a woman who was on our route. That's probably why he delivered our mail at 8 p.m. most nights (using a flashlight in the winter months).

I still laugh when I think about his first impression of us since I know damned well he knew what we were doing when he knocked on the back door.