Thursday, February 01, 2007
Mail Call
The mail guy for my floor and I have kind of an interesting relationship. First of all, he often calls me Sam, which I think is kind of odd, given that my actual name is on both my door and every single piece of mail he delivers to me. Second, he really likes to chat with me a length, which is sometimes awkward, given that the description of my duties does include a number of tasks other than listening to the mail guy's opinions on Rosie O'Donnell. Also, he's a bit of a mumbler, which can lead to exchanges like the following:
Mail Guy: Hey, Sam, did you hear about the myrhburble clrh?
Jay: I'm sorry, what?
Mail Guy: Plurabsul klyh.
Jay: Oh right, yeah. How about that?
His main topic of conversation, however, is the proximity of the weekend, which I can pretty much fake, even if I don't exactly hear him clearly:
Mail Guy: Man, Sam, Friday's coming soon, eh, buddy?
Jay: Not soon enough, I tell you!
Mail Guy: You're right about that.
And recently he's started commenting on my individual pieces of mail, which is somewhat disturbing. I mean, it's not like I'm having porn mailed to my office or anything, but I don't necessarily need everyone on my floor knowing I bought the Dreamgirls soundtrack.
Of course, if I start cultivating this whole "Sam" persona there's probably a lot of things I can start blaming on him.
The mail guy for my floor and I have kind of an interesting relationship. First of all, he often calls me Sam, which I think is kind of odd, given that my actual name is on both my door and every single piece of mail he delivers to me. Second, he really likes to chat with me a length, which is sometimes awkward, given that the description of my duties does include a number of tasks other than listening to the mail guy's opinions on Rosie O'Donnell. Also, he's a bit of a mumbler, which can lead to exchanges like the following:
Mail Guy: Hey, Sam, did you hear about the myrhburble clrh?
Jay: I'm sorry, what?
Mail Guy: Plurabsul klyh.
Jay: Oh right, yeah. How about that?
His main topic of conversation, however, is the proximity of the weekend, which I can pretty much fake, even if I don't exactly hear him clearly:
Mail Guy: Man, Sam, Friday's coming soon, eh, buddy?
Jay: Not soon enough, I tell you!
Mail Guy: You're right about that.
And recently he's started commenting on my individual pieces of mail, which is somewhat disturbing. I mean, it's not like I'm having porn mailed to my office or anything, but I don't necessarily need everyone on my floor knowing I bought the Dreamgirls soundtrack.
Of course, if I start cultivating this whole "Sam" persona there's probably a lot of things I can start blaming on him.
