Monday, March 2, 2009
You Wish, Walking Litter Box
Whenever the mailman calls from the mail room downstairs to tell me to come down and pick up my mail, I hesitate. I've learned that running down there immediately subjects me to the risk of running into Walking Litter Box. Besides, I don't want to get caught up in the mess as everyone else crowds the loading dock waiting for theirs.
So, when the mailman called, I said, "Okay, I'll be right down," hung up, and then went back to surfing the internet.
Five minutes later, he called again. To me, this meant that it was a light mail day, or that everyone had already picked theirs up, and only ours was remaining.
I hurried down and BAM! just as I walked in, I saw the Walking Litter Box standing at the door to the mailroom. I made a wide arc around him to avoid his funk, although I've learned that the cold temperature of the loading dock does a good job of keeping his smell at bay. Summer is going to be brutal.
I cowered in the corner by the loading dock, waiting for Walking Litter Box to leave so that I could ever so slowly take my mail. I've learned that you either have to outrun Walking Litter Box (if you get there before he does), or slow down enough to miss catching the elevator with him.
Today, I would have to do a Slow Down, maybe fake chat with the security guard at the front desk while waiting for him to get in the elevator.
But the meddling mailman must have it out for me.
He called for me through the door opening, telling me that he had my mail ready. I rushed over, holding my breath. I grabbed the bucket and made a break for it.
He yelled after me to come back because he had a package that needed my signature.
Now I had to sign for this package while holding my breath. Why the Walking Litter Box chooses to linger down there for so long is beyond me.
I slapped the pen on the counter and ran.
Again, he called for me. This time because I forgot the package.
I wonder if the Walking Litter Box has a blog. I'd imagine his entry:
Today I bumped into "Frantic 20 Something" down by the mailroom. He is always in this crazed, manic rush. I think he might have some kind of crush on me, because when he sees me, he runs. Maybe he's shy. I dunno.
You wish, Walking Litter Box.