I think attacks by mailmen are very rare, but, you should always be prepared in case one happens to you.
It was payday and I had appointments to keep, so as I was clearing the ice and snow off my car and allowing it a chance to warm up inside, I was quite pleased to see the mailman coming down the street. He would be delivering my paycheck. With it I could get everything I needed to be done today in a single outing rather then several.
He walked up my driveway and I nodded good day as he headed for my mailbox. “It’s payday today,” I said, “So I am expecting you to put something good in that box.” he laughed and said he would try his best.
His best worked out just fine for me. When I raised the lid of the mailbox, inside, there sat an envelope containing the wages for my previous two weeks of work. “Woo-hoo!” I shouted, waving the envelope over my head. Yes, I get easily excited when money is delivered my way. (You should see my happy dance when my tax return comes in!) Unfortunately, I am sometimes in public when such excitements overtake me, and forget myself. My lack of decorum that day caused the mailman to stop halfway to the house next door. He turned around and started walking back towards me. “Oh no,” I muttered under my breath. The can of pepper spray dog repellent on his belt was swinging menacingly. He is going to beat me up and steal away my paycheck. The mailman had a big smile on his face. “Oh no,” I muttered again. He was going to rob my paycheck and do so happily.
He stepped up to me and said, still with that smile, “Do you have any idea how rare it is for people to still get their paychecks delivered in the mail?” I couldn’t answer him because I was to busy trying to figure out how rare it was to be assaulted by a letter carrier. How much damage could a swinging sack of letters cause when hit upside the head? He continued to talk, “Even in the organization I work for – of the 60,000 workers across the country – only 118 of us still get our cheques delivered to home.”
He wasn’t going to rob me after all.
I nodded and told him how the company I worked for tried to get us to go with direct deposit in the past, but I refused, explaining that for the very short period – between the time I retrieve the cheque from my mail box and the time I bring it to my bank in person- I can say, this money is all mine! That pleases me.
He agreed and added, “After all, I work for the post office not the bank.” I understood what he was saying. The banks have enough money as it is, why should they also have the money he would get for the delivery of a paycheck?
I appreciated the fact that he took the time to turn around and basically thank me for the job he still has, all because I refuse to surrender to the temptations of technology, swallow the lure of electronica or succumb to the delights of direct deposits.
“We are a rare breed,” I told him as we parted ways. (Some would just say we are old and stubborn.)