There are very few things more annoying in my day-to-day life than my community mailbox. It’s at the end of my street. The locks are always frozen or broken. Or the entire face of the box has been torn off in what looks to be a major envelope heist. Ironically, my mail was never stolen until they locked it up.
After working an overnight shift, I stop by the box on my way home. I always hope to receive something that isn’t a bill but it’s always a bill. Or two. Three if I’m lucky.
It’s minus 13 degrees Celsius on this brisk Canadian morning and there are a few cars parked around the box. More than usual. I exit my truck and participate in possibly the worst scenario imaginable. I’m standing in single file waiting for my turn at receiving my bills! Did I mention it’s minus 13 degrees Celsius outside? That’s not even taking into account the wind chill factor.
We all have that annoying, unreasonably chipper neighbour. For me, it’s Jim. I avoid Jim like the fucking plague. Jim is at the box sorting through his coupons and various mail stream treasures. He says, “I love these new boxes they put in. It’s nice that we can all gather and get to know each other.” I almost black out with rage and immediately visualize beating Jim to death with his PennySaver.™ I talk myself down and come back to reality. I smile and nod my head. Jim isn’t ready for my opinion on these boxes.
I insert my bent key in the lock, open it up and find 3 weeks worth of mail crammed inside. Whoever designed these boxes obviously didn’t consider larger mail items. The minute I reach in and try to pull it all out, I scrape my knuckles on the edges of the slot and start bleeding. Jim is whistling away, loving life.
“Ahh! Fuck!” I proclaim. “Why the fuck would they make these boxes with such sharp edges!? People are obviously going to stick their hands inside.” I continue to release the rage on Jim. “The system was much better when they dropped mail off 6 inches from my doorstep. How did we go from door-to-door service to being forced to pick up your shit and mingle with neighbours at the communal box? How did we let this happen?” I’ll bet in the future they’ll start charging a pretty penny for a renewed version of door-to-door service. The entire population of Canada should be up in arms over this injustice. I don’t even care if you didn’t get door-to-door delivery. I did! And now I don’t. Now I have to hang out with Jim and answer questions like, “beauty morning eh!?” or “havin’ fun bud!?”
On the off-chance that my letter carrier is reading this, please leave a few fresh Band-aids along-side my coupons.