Your Mailman

Have you ever got your mail and been like what the fuck its late, or wondered why you smell whiskey on your mail??? Well i have it all figured out!!! I have lived and received mail in several states from here to Kentucky, no matter where i lived it seemed like the same old story. The mail delivery person in a miserable drunk. But lets think about why. Why do you drink? Because you wake up everyday, take the same damn drive, to work to do the same paper pushing b.s you do everyday, to come home and have someone take all the money you just made away. Well think about that, but worse, kinda, besides being self-loathing and depressed as much as the next person, Mailmen (women) have to deal with every asshole in town at the same time. Not only do they have to take the same drive to work, but they have to sit there and look at the same look-a-like envelopes as the day before, with the same addresses on them. This is where the most common mistake comes in and the sorting gets messed up because they spaced out or was to hung over to keep the stacks in order. And after putting all that once sorted mail into their gay ass little trucks they drive around the take a smoke break, which at most consist of last few sips of their morning flask (remember they are drunks) and a cigarette. They probably would smoke weed if possible but since they would lose their government job they stick to alcohol. Don't worry about them drinking and driving, they are professionals, really! ALSO they go like 5mph on the side of the road and get away  with it. But then they have to go on with their boring ass day of driving down the same roads that smell like shit (farms smell like cow poop) and dealing with the same ass holes (you). Part way through their route they have to drive along a busy highway, that has no shoulder and few spread out houses. They stop at the first house causing a line of traffic to form behind them. By the second or third stop on this street people are honking, passing and swearing at them. And they just ignore it so they dont lose their job. The last stop on the street before he/she has to cross the street into the next neighborhood is conveniently placed in a passing zone. In the 20 seconds it takes them to put the mail in the mailbox the line of traffic besides to all drive on the wrong side of the road holding up traffic on the other side of the road, and the mail person, even though if they let the mail-person do their fucking job they would have normal flow after he/she crosses the street but w.e its necessary for you to piss people off who know where you live. After the line is finally gone the mail delivery driver rushes through the neighborhood to get done as soon as possible, although being late causes people who have no patience to stand outside and pick fights with them. Causing them to be even more late for someone else. By the time this is done the driver usually has to pee, and needs a refresher. So a piss break and a cigarette later you find yourself dropping off the mail to the liquor store where the already have your ORDER ready bagged and rang up before you get through the door. Not wanting to spill any on his uniform the place it in the cup holder for easy access, and continue on their journey. Somewhere between there and the next time they get to have a cigarette they run into their next issue. Someone goes around them and cuts them off while they are still moving causing the delivery driver to slam on the breaks, spilling the alcohol all over your mail because you were in to big of a hurry to wait for someone you rely on to do their job. So by the time they reach you, half your mail is missing because the ash of a cig fell in the mail bucket and started the wet mail on fire, BUT ITS LATE, so you go out there, and wait at your mail box, next to your neighbors, standing in line to do drive by arguments with a slow moving cranky alcoholic. After you get your daily dose of "manhood" in your balls get cut off and sold to the electric company because you fail to turn off the computer when you pass out masturbating every night and ran up your bill. So you jump in your car to get to the bank quick and get stuck down the road by the mail truck. I mean how dare they get in your way to do a service for you that without you would be completely lost if not useless. I mean they bring you bills you would otherwise forget to pay and be out a house or car, and the bring your dirty magazines, and sometimes your checks, if you had to remember to do all that yourself you would remember checks and magazines thats it. You would never deliberately go pick up bills to pay. After the second block you decide to throw your old pepsi bottle out the window at them causing them to drop their bottle of whiskey out the window and shatter little glass pieces all over the road and pop their tire. So after they fix the tire you broke, and finish delivering your friends/families bills they finally get to head back. But they cant get in the parking spot because you parked like a dick trying to get in the post office on time to mail off the money order for the bill they just delivered to you. After a few nasty looks and mumbles underneath the breath later they pull in and change cars to then become part of the rush-home traffic hour. So next time you decide to bitch about the mail, remember, its only karma.