Left in the cold

A cautionary tale:

Once, when I apparently didn't make sure the key-thingy of my mailbox was turned completely shut (never mind that it can be dragged into an "open" position by a careless mail carrier), a nasty note was scrawled across the front of one of the envelopes in my box. It essentially said: "Make sure your mailbox is completely closed, or I can't deliver your mail."

My "mail," for the record, typically consists of a loose sheaf of Domino's/Papa John's/Papa Murphy's coupons, the weekly Kmart flier, the latest plea from World Vision that I help save the world, and the newest offer from my credit card, begging me to go further into debt with a low promotional interest rate.

That's what he's threatening to not deliver to me.

No! Not the pizza coupons! Don't hold those hostage! What would fall out of my mailbox and carpet the entryway in junk mail if you did that?

In a parallel-running story, I've had to stop my newspaper delivery because the building's resident kleptomaniac seems to think that my newspaper becomes their newspaper when I haven't crept out into the hallway by 7 a.m. to retrieve it. And it's not just newspapers.

Now here's the kicker:

The mailman'll hold your junk mail hostage, but he's perfectly comfortable leaving your box from Amazon/any other retailer on the floor under the mailbox or on the floor in the hallway in front of your door. I'm not kidding.

Your box of books/CDs/cell phone batteries/DVDs is, by virtue of being on the floor, now the property of my yet-anonymous douchebag neighbor.

But for the sake of all that's decent, you'd better make sure your mailbox is good and locked, or you're not getting that Kmart ad. We're not letting anyone get to that.

Epic FAIL, U.S. Postal Service. Epic. FAIL.