I don’t wish to brag, but I did a very selfless act this morning. In doing so, I expect I saved the very life of my rural mailman.
Before I humbly re-enact my heroic deed, I should explain how rural mail carriers are a whole different breed than your basic urban carrier. Besides having to have cars with either the steering wheel on the right-side (which I know for my British readers, that is normal) or having to have a really long left leg and arm, so you can sit on the right side and still drive and work the gas/brake pedals, they also very often deliver packages deemed “not worthy of our time but we will still charge you an exorbitant amount of money to send it using our UPS rates” by other carriers.
In the past I have lauded the generosity and bravery and long-sufferingness of my mail guy, Tom. A real rural hoarder’s, I mean collector’s, friend is old Tom. I wonder how many strange packages he has delivered to my house over the years? Remember the time I ordered a full-size saddle from EBay and it was delivered via the USPS shrink-wrapped in black plastic bags and poor Tom had to drive up to my house and honk (that is the way we do it around here, or I should say, the way TOM does it….I think it is a kindness on his part and not part of the Mail Carriers Oath….”neither snow, nor rain, nor huge dogs, rouge pigs or wild goats, shall keep us from our appointed rounds” (extremely paraphrased by author)).
So getting back to my tale of heroism….this morning at the butt-crack of dawn (9am), as I am just getting to sleep (caught some kind of bug and have not slept in three nights or days….more or less) out in my camper (tent bed, AC, medicinal hidden BlackBerry Brandy, no bugs or snakes), I hear the roar of Tom’s old car coming into the driveway and the melodic honk of his horn. I am expecting some things via some kind of carrier so I think about jumping (hahaha…I kill myself….me jumping out of bed….a slow roll is more like it) out of my squooshy bed and since I cannot sleep in normal bedtime attire, I have just a t-shirt on and by the time I get into my lovely Lularoe leggings and a normal shirt plus my “when can I get out of this damn” Playtex torture device, he will be home having dinner so my initial thought is to just go flying out wrapped up in my fake Muppet fur pink blanket. Now here comes the heroic part:
I saved Tom the wonder carrier, the shock of his life by NOT flinging my ever so large, wrapped up in yards of long furry pink blanket body with dark blue-standing straight up from my head like some kind of Roman soldier helmet-hair, bare hairy legs and too big for me but work ok running (again….hahaha…running) to and fro the camper, red Crocs. The poor man would have screamed like a little girl and hit the gas and probably ran smack dab into Scott’s large, but sunk once when he forgot to put a plug back in the engine when he was fixing it at the marina, fishing boat that has resided IN FRONT of the door to the garage all summer.
So, you see, my friends, not all heroes live in Texas….some of us live in the woods of northern Minnesota, saving one mailman at a time…..
The Queen (who really needs her own cartoon show or sitcom….just sayin…)