Lambs, several of you know what I do for a living. I skulk about on people's front porches, going through their things. Sent by the government, I go where I will, leaving behind documents of the most personal nature. I know your name. I know your dog's name.
Yes, I am the mail lady.
So, imagine this scene from last Saturday: I am walking along the street in my blue postal pants with the darker blue piping up the side, black walking shoes, a blue postal sweater, a blue postal vest with reflective red and white stripes on it as well as the postal logo on the chest, and to top it all off, a postal chapeau, also complete with postal logo. I am walking toward that large white truck with the blue and red stripe and the postal web address printed on the side. To get to it, I have to walk right past a conspicuous blue postal collection box. A lady in an SUV watches me as I get closer. She speaks. I cannot hear. I get closer. She speaks again.
"Are you the mail lady?" she asks.
Why no. I'm a fucking astronaut. NASA just asked me to drop off a few letters while re-entering the Earth's atmosphere before landing on your street. Have a moon rock.
"Yes, ma'am" I say. Because I am the Pleasant Lady. Have a wonderful day. And do something about your hair, it's hideous. Bye now.
Send your questions on a postcard to The Pleasant Lady. The Pleasant Lady regrets that she cannot answer every inquiry personally. No, the Pleasant Lady does not know your sister's boy John who works for Fed-Ex in Arizona. Yes, it is hot enough/cold enough for the Pleasant Lady today. The Pleasant Lady regrets that she does not know where your letter from Aunt Minnie is. The Pleasant Lady realizes that Your Old Carrier was better than the Pleasant Lady and that you wish you had them back. The Pleasant Lady invites you to call the post office and tell them the Pleasant Lady hasn't done anything but sit there eating her lunch for the past twenty minutes. Now she's reading a book. No, the Pleasant Lady cannot check to see if she forgot your magazine somewhere in her truck. No, the Pleasant Lady is not trying to "set some sort of record" for being late. See you tomorrow. See you next week. Unless I'm on vacation again.
(signed)
The Pleasant Lady
_________
Bwahahahaha! Dr. Livingston, I presume! I think that guy wandering around our dinner is related to her...
ReplyDeleteAwww! It sucks being The Pleasant Lady! But we appreciate her - we really do :)
ReplyDeleteDear Tiger-Friend,
ReplyDeleteHee-hee? Does the Pleasant Lady have a dark twin? me thinks that she must. All light has a shadow. Actually, me thinks I hear a bit of shadow under the surface of all this pleasantry.
xoxo
Weasel-Friend
p.s. Thank you for the INCREDIBLY gorgeous link to my blog. Jadore!!!
When I was a much younger sweet
ReplyDeletething, my dream was to work in the
small town PO... replacing the not
so pleasant people that worked there.
Man, I can't imagine the stupidity you must deal with.
ReplyDeleteIs that you in the picture ?
Love the photo. For an astronaut you look a lot like an USPS delivery person! Ours is named Rose and I've known her it seems for ages. 20 years to be exact. Lately a guy has been on the route a few days per week so I need to find out if Rose has been reassigned to the Space Station.
ReplyDelete(Are you a born Year of the Tiger person too?....)
Rk, I do plenty of wandering around, for sure. And I do sometimes wear a pith helmet!
ReplyDeleteTalon, your lucky posties get Saturdays off!
LBR, I am so pleased you like your little link thingie. And Weasel obviously still loves the Valentino pumps! ;-)
Faye, it's not too late lol.
Senorita...yes, that's me. :-)
Lydia, you crack me up! And no, I am a Year of the Sheep person. LBR calls me Tiger Friend because I'm from Detroit.
Don't they understand that they'll get their magazines when you're DONE with them? (LOL!)
ReplyDeleteInteresting perspective sharing, Pleasant Lady!
This is so great - I can just imagine that you do hear all those things.
ReplyDeleteI was pulled over by the state patrol in north Georgia once and the trooper somehow discerned that I worked for BellSouth. He asked me if I knew his brother-in-law who worked for the company in middle Georgia. I said his name sounded familiar, but inwardly rolled by eyes. :) Just got a warning.
spreading pleasantness wherever she goes.
ReplyDeleteSo hilarious. I love "have a moon rock." I also love the dark twin thoughts underneath the pleasantness:) You are so funny!
ReplyDeleteLOL! I have to say, my mailman is my favorite person on earth. Every time I get another box of books from Amazon he says, "WHY don't you get a bigger mailbox!?" We're rural and I have a small mailbox. Great post. Blessings!!
ReplyDeleteSo . . . are you the mail lady?
ReplyDeleteGAH ... do you wear latex gloves? Our 'pleasant lady' does ... she also can walk, talk on her in-ear mobile AND push her mail cart/thingie ... sometimes she walks/talks/pushes AND is accompanied by another 'pleasant lady' ... who is also pushing a mail thingie .. I think they are keeping one another company so they dont get lonely... its pleasant ladies like them what give REAL pleasant ladies like you the bad rap
ReplyDeleteHa! You really have patience, Lamb
ReplyDeleteAloha from Honolulu
Comfort Spiral
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nicely said! sometimes I feel like writing this sort of letter to the power hungry control freak docs who treat us nurses like we have no idea what we're talking about-even though we've been bedside with the patient for the last hour and they have yet to lay eyes on her!
ReplyDeletedid you find the moon rock, pleasant lady?
ReplyDeleteyou know, there isn't enough rants and verbiage on mail people...
ReplyDeleteso true, so inviting into the steps and frustrations on this one...
hmph.
another over-looked job/person...i might add.
I've got, like, a really big card. I was wondering, like, how much it would cost to, like, send it to, you know, California.
ReplyDelete