Floppy Mouth Guy

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I listen to my iPod while delivering mail. When I hear something strange in the real world, which I do regularly because people like to shout out at me, I take my earbuds out and try to find where that noise came from.

In this case it was across the street. There was a man leaning outside his front door staring at me.

“Yes?” I called out.

He lifted a letter into the air. I started walking in his direction.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

He waved the letter back and forth.

“Wrong house?” He didn’t respond.

Ten feet away from him I stopped and asked, with a bit of malice, “What?”

He continued to shake the letter.

I took those ten steps, grabbed the letter from his hand and said, “What’s the problem?”

“Read it.” He said. It looked like he was missing a bunch of teeth. He had one of those floppy mouths where his bottom lip kinda wrapped over top of his top.

“Wrong house.” I said.

“Yuh.” He said.

Ugh. How do people make simple experiences so god-damn annoying?

I stuck the letter in my satchel, turned around without saying goodbye and told myself “I’m quitting.”

I have yet to follow through on quitting.

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