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.