While basking in the Florida sun, our neighbor snowshoed his way over to the mailbox in freezing snow and rain to gather our mail.
I was receiving my massage from Caring Hands Massage the other day and decided I would treat him to a one hour massage from Kathy as a thank you.
Being the clever creature I am, I decided to write "to Steve...my favorite mailman" on the envelope and I added a warm message about how much we appreciated his faithful service. Then I tucked it into his mailbox. And waited...and waited and waited for a reply.
Well...you'd think I'd get at least a thank you text or something. This just isn't like him. So about a week or so later finally I had a chance encounter with him (I had to wait 25 minutes in the cold for this chance encounter) and I casually asked him if he had used his certificate yet.
He stared at me like I had grown a third eye. Actually, this seems to be a common look on the neighbor's faces....I wonder why that is.
He looked a bit sheepish and said he didn't have any idea what I was talking about. Hmmm. That's another similarity I've noticed with people.
I explained that I had left a gift certificate for a massage in his mailbox. He said he never got it and since he's a Lutheran minister, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't lie to me. Well, this is perplexing.
Just then our mailman, also named Steve, stopped at the mailbox and waved me over to the truck. He blushed and looked almost teary eyed when he thanked me for the wonderful gift. Huh?
He kept rambling about how everyone takes postal delivery for granted and even though he'd never had a massage, he certainly was looking forward to it.
Holy crap. That probably explains why he's been smiling and winking and waving at me all the time. I guess I'd better get something else for Pastor Steve.
Neither rain nor snow or dark of night can stop the delivery of the blog. Long live the Queen!