I took my earbuds out and looked around. There he was across the street. They’re always across the street.
“Eh! You misdelivered a couple letters last week. You gave me a couple of my neighbour’s letters.”
“Did I? I’m sorry.”
“I’m just letting you know. I used to be a mailman for 30 years. So I’m just letting you know.”
Say what? If anybody should understand that sometimes, after looking at 1000’s of letters every day for years and years, you put the wrong letters in the wrong box, it should be the guy who delivered mail for 30 years. What, this guy never made mistakes? Or does he just want to reminisce about it? Or does he revel in being on the other side of the stick?
Look. This mistake, it happens to me a lot. Probably more than it should, but that’s what happens when you’ve given up on yourself. I don’t see how it couldn’t have happened to him. In 30 years?!
“Ok. Sorry. I’ll be more careful.” I say as sincerely as is possible.
“Thanks,” he says. “It’s just… If someone got my letters they’d leave them on top of their fridge for days or something…. You know.”
No. I don’t.
I gotta quit this job.