1. “Why are you always doing that? Who are you?”
2. “I’ll need to see some form of identification before you can stick anything in my box.”
3. “Did you know your steering wheel is on the wrong side? I think you should take the truck back and get a refund.”
4. “Are you here about the free oil change? Just pull around back and we’ll get you lubed right up.”
5. “I’m lonely and I have dark thoughts. Will you be my friend?”
6. “Thank GOD you made it. I’ll show you where the backed-up toilet is. It’s kind of a gusher, so I hope your brought your own boots. Mine floated away an hour ago. Speaking of, I haven’t seen Grandma in a while, either.”
7. “I told you not to come back here. Now I’m gonna have to notify the Elders of the Corn and they are not going to be happy. I hope you already got your crops in for this season because it’s about to get Old-Testament vindictive up in here.”
8. “Thank you for patronizing Brenda’s Drive-Thru Sperm Bank. We aim to please and we hope you do, too. In this cup right here. Do you need any magazines to help you out?”
9. “The trees talk to me. Well, one of them does. The others are just shy.”
10. “You realize that one of these times there will be a snake in this mailbox. It’s a mathematical inevitability. And the Pentecostals in my family are always misplacing things.”
11. “It’s about time you finally made it back to my table. My water glass has been empty for the last twenty-four hours.”
12. “Why do you keep leaving me? What am I doing wrong? Tell me how to fix myself!”
13. “Would you happen to know where I can get my hands on some goat blood in the next thirty minutes?”
14. “Please, mister, please. Don’t play B-17.”
15. “I’m double-jointed!”
16. “Do you think Mama Cass really choked on that sandwich?”
17. “I know where Jimmy Hoffa is.”
18. “Are you my daddy?”
19. “Peace. Tranquility. Insanity.”
20. “Do you taste like chicken?”
21. “If that’s a bill, nobody in this house has any money so there’s no point in leaving it.”
22. “The proper etiquette when approaching the throne is to bow deeply and give up all remnants of your self-esteem. Are you prepared, young grasshopper?”
23. “Studies have shown that most accidents in the home occur when men who don’t live in that home stomp their ignorant ass across carefully-cultivated begonias whilst approaching a small metal box and the matriarch of said home takes note of the vile indiscretion.”
24. “What have you done with my fan mail? Why are you hiding it from me?”
25. “If you’re here to sell us a vacuum cleaner, Mom said you can suck it. And she needs another beer.”
Originally published in “The Sound and the Fury” on 11/13/10 and “Bonnywood Manor” on 02/27/14, revised and updated with extra flair for this post.
Story behind the photo: The outer portal of my mailbox. It’s built into the wall of our 1950s house. There’s a little door on the inside we can pop open in order to retrieve the daily treasures. It sounds quaint, but the reality is that the whole contraption was built for old-school, postcard-size mail. Behemoth, modern-day correspondence, like catalogues and legal-size court orders, do not slip easily into said conduit. There’s nothing like being wrenched from a deep sleep at 6AM because the begonia-destroying postman is trying to shove a Pottery Barn compendium into a toaster slot…
Categories: 10 Reasons Why
Bonnywood Manor 
Love your letterbox. You’re lucky to get most of your mail delivered to the door. We have to walk ALL THE WAY to the kerb (curb).
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Yep. And f there’s ANYTHING in the street inside of twenty feet of that box on a post we get a post-it that says the post office will not exit endanger their employees by forcing them to exit the vehicle, so in the future don’t surprised if we don’t deliver.
Danger? In Plano, Texas? Okay, maybe the people who drive sixty down my street avoiding the road construction but it’s not this is free range pit bull territory. Hear that, Brian? Only the one percenters in Dallas get walk-up delivery.
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Phil, it sounds like you need to move to Oak Cliff. I don’t know why the USPS, at least in this area, doesn’t have an issue with letting their carriers traipse right up to the front door. Maybe it was part of the contract negotiations when Dallas swallowed up Oak Cliff in the early 1900s. (“Okay, fine, we’ll change our street names down here so they don’t match any of the street names in your fancy big town, but I want my coupons shoved directly into the side of my house…”)
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Peggy, it actually is a rather pleasing thing that on the days when we have decent-sized mail, I can retrieve such with relative ease and a lack of couture. When the big stuff doesn’t fit, I actually have to put pants on… 😉
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I would love to see the postmans face after you said #8. My dad always said Mama Cass choked on a sandwich but I never believed him and I’ve never done any further research to determine the truth. However, I’m looking for a reason to procrastinate my annotated bibliography so I’m about to google right now. I’ve actually used #21.
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Our current mailman is fairly young. It’s fairly certain that he doesn’t know Mama Cass from Mister Rogers. (Not trying to judge, just sayin.) As for the sandwich angle, I think the final verdict was that her heart was the issue, not the nosh, but it’s such an interesting way to go out that the rumors have persisted. I, for one, hope that my passing involves controversy and conspiracy. Maybe I’ll get a decent epitaph out of it… 😉
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#26. Damn, man, I ordered pizza a week ago. The coupon better still be good or you can forget a tip.
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Duly noted. [Sounds of clicking as spreadsheet is being updated…]
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As I read through these, chuckling away, I wonder if you wrote the scene in Roxanne where the male lead comes up with 20 jokes in quick succession about big noses but, if you had, it would have been a much funnier scene 🙂
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Confession: I have never seen “Roxanne”. (Steve Martin can be interesting, but there are some big chunks of time when he’s not.) But I’m going to assume that you are complimenting me in some way, and this tickles my fancy… 😉
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It was, Brian. I used to really enjoy Roxanne… (I feel my comedic credibility wobbling on a high ledge near where a gentleman with glasses is wrestling a clock face) 🙂
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#27. Weren’t you the other gender yesterday?
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#27.5: “No, you’re confusing me with Kellyanne Conway.”
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BWAHAHAHAH! You know, in the rural areas of America (or maybe just in Utah, we’re known for being a little bit odd at times)..they are trying to return to the happy state of post card sized mailboxes for huge soul-sucking gobs of mail. Can you hear the trees wailing?? Except now-a-days they stick 24 or so of them TOGETHER, affix cute little numbers to the front, and give you a key (well two keys. Someone is always losing the %$@# mailbox key..). This provides one a chance for healthy exercise, striding along, gulping in quantities of fresh air (only slightly tainted by the scent of cow poo…this WAS a farm once after all) and feeling superior because one walked a block to get the mail. Me? I drive. It’s two minutes to the damn box and I drive there. Because the dog is fractious and liable to attack other neighborhood dogs (even though she’s 7 lbs soaking wet), she leaves little unsavory packages on crabby neighbors lawns , and asphyxiates herself pulling on the leash. Also I’d have to get DRESSED to go walking. In the car I can throw a coat over my ratty nightgown/jammies and furtively leap (bet that mental picture is making you dizzy) out of the car hoping someone doesn’t notice I look like someone who just slept in their car and smell far worse probably. And inevitably the biggest gossip in five miles is picking up her mail too. >sigh< You don't know when you got it lucky fella! And if the mailman is CUTE, hey. Time for a creepy uncomfortable conversation and maybe some morning/afternoon delight?
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I’m letting you know right up front that I am saving this comment to a file and I fully intend to plagiarize your ideas. This is hysterical, and there are at least 17 blog posts that can hewed out of this oratory. Hell, there might even be an entire book. So if you ever seen one of my novels on a best-seller list and you think “hey, that was MY idea”, well, I’m just warning you now that you shouldn’t be surprised… 😉
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9,12,18 and 20 cracked me up. Must remember to try some of these when I next see a postman. 🙂
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Those are some of my faves as well. Just be warned, though. Some postal carriers have a sense of humor and others do not. I got a few startling responses when taking some of these out for a test drive… 😉
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“Thanks, but I didn’t bring you anything.”
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“That’s okay. I get kick-ass retirement benefits as a government employee, so it’s all good. Unless nobody is able to stop Trump from his slashing and burning…”
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#14: This is like the third time I’ve caught you referencing Olivia Newton John. What are you not telling us Brian?
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I am SO glad this secret is finally out. I’m really her. (She’s really me?) After all, no one has ever seen us in the same room together, right? Right.
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#19 seems to be about right for me lately. Don’t give a bugger what the postie thinks cause I don’t often get mail these days.
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Wouldn’t #19 make a GREAT tagline on a blog? Oh wait…
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….yes ….I’m waiting 🙂
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The Elders of the Corn. I LOST it on that reference, Brian. Old testament vindictive? That is great. I would love to try some of these lines on my mail person. The problem is the mail around these parts comes at 7:00 at night. Good times. Another funny listicle!
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Thanks, Susan. I love how you get the the obscure references; it warms my heart. As for delivery times, our postman can show up at any moment throughout the day. He apparently bases his schedule on some type of celestial alignment that evades my comprehension. This means he often makes an appearance just as I’m about to take a well-deserved nap after doing nothing but play Candy Crush all day, waking me from my tentative slumber by trying to shove a Buick into our tiny mailbox…
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That is certainly delightful, Brian. I love living here so much that mail delivery at 7 pm isn’t a bother at all. Who needs it anyway? Mostly everything comes via the intranets. I would not be very hospitable if I were awakened by a noisy postal worker. Then again, who am I kidding? I live near the wood chipper from Fargo and Ash Williams from Evil Dead chainsawing Deadites all day.
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You still have a postman? Wow, I’ve not seen mine since the day I discovered email, and invited him down to my cellar. 😀
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Actually, I used to be your postman until you decided to go digital. It sure would be nice if you would let me out of your cellar… 😉
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OK. Bring up a bottle of the ’94 on your way up. 😀🍷
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This post has brightened up my morning. Thank you.
I am still laughing at “I’ll need to see some form of identification before you can stick anything in my box.” 🙂
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I’m glad you enjoyed it. Sometimes I get a bit racy. This is probably post-traumatic shock from being raised in Oklahoma… 😉
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