Hey Joe

| 8 Comments

Yesterday as I was getting in my car to run some errands, Joe, my mailman, strolled up to my driveway with my mail. I thought I would save him the few steps up to my porch and so walked over to take it from him.

"How you doin, Ms. Holly?" he asked. The first time he addressed me by name, I was a bit surprised; but I soon realized of course he knows my name; he reads it almost every day. He probably also knows, if he cares enough to analyze the magazines I subscribe to, my religious background, my political leanings, my general taste in music.

"I'm fine," I said, taking the envelopes he held. "Thanks. How are you?"

"Doing real good. You have a good day, now."

"You too," I said.

It was, like every interaction I have with Joe, brief and extremely pleasant. He's just so damn good-natured! It never occurred to me to notice the temperament of my postman, until I had a really pissy one: the previous one would huff and puff coming up my stairs like I was a little pig in a brick house he needed to blow down, and he'd thrust the mail through the slot as if enraged that my house was still standing, because that meant he'd have to come back and do the whole thing again the next day. The one time I spoke to him, to ask him if instead of leaving a package on my front porch he might place it on my back porch out of view and the elements, he replied, his entire being slack with resentment, that he'd try to remember to accommodate my special, unusual and extremely inconvenient request.

Not Joe! He's always polite, always grinning. He's also really hot, if you go for tall, well-muscled men with those lean, long legs that look good in bicycle shorts. He's an aging hippy, in his mid-40s, I'd guess, with a full head of dark hair (far less gray than I've got) which he wears gathered in a pony tail hanging to his waist.

Hot though I think he is, I simply am not the kind of person to entertain sexual fantasies about the mailman. Instead what I really respond to is his grinning affability. It arouses in me a benevolent protectiveness. I really want to make his life easier. I know that patches of ice are a serious occupational hazard for postal carriers, and I don't want him to fall, so I keep my walk shoveled and my porch steps swept all winter. I want this guy to stick around and deliver my mail for a long, long time to come.

8 Comments

I simply am not the kind of person to entertain sexual fantasies about the mailman.

*puts away rented uniform*

That benevolent protectiveness is one of the things I so admire in you.

I simply am not the kind of person to entertain sexual fantasies about the mailman.

*puts away rented uniform*

Did I say anything about not being the kind of person who won't entertain fantasies about someone willing to dress up in a costume specially for me?

Holly, I love that you know his first name. A lot of people can't be bothered to learn the name of their postal carrier!

Did I say anything about not being the kind of person who won't entertain fantasies about someone willing to dress up in a costume specially for me?

No, I have no doubt you did not say anything about not being the kind of person who won't entertain fantasies about someone who is not unwilling to dress up in a costume specially for you.

I love that you know his first name.

One day when I went to the post office to pick up my mail after being away for a couple of weeks, I mentioned to the people behind the counter that my mailman was extremely nice. One said, "I bet it's Joe," and another asked what he looks like. I described him, and they said, "Oh yes, that's Joe. He probably is our nicest carrier."

Chris--as the Chinese would say, your response to my question is very not bad.

Our postman is Steve and he must be related to Joe. The kids love him and he always has a smile on his face. They run to the mail box to greet him and collect the mail. On his day off, Monday, I have to get the mail when it comes because the substitute guy says "I don't give mail to kids." He also doesn't smile or say hello. Steve on the other hand waves and smiles when I see him a mile away delivering someone elses mail. I'm sure glad there are Steves and Joes in the world. I need to take a lesson from them. I think I'm too often like the Monday guy.

Hi Ann--I'm glad to know that Joe is not one of a kind. And I'm with you in thinking we should learn something from guys like Steve and Joe--it's just so pleasant to deal with someone who likes doing his job with kindness and good humor.

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This page contains a single entry by Holly published on July 12, 2006 5:00 PM.

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