Erotic Lingerie and the Stupid, Stupid Mailman

There once was a stupid, stupid mailman, a real block head or the most oblivious creature ever put on the planet. Every day for a week, he brought a package or certified letters to this one house and every day for that week, the woman would race to the door in full makeup and erotic lingerie. It started with fairly tame stuff but by the end of the week, this lady was going whole hog.

On Monday, he brought a package and she opened the door a fairly wide crack, giving him a pretty good peek at the goods. After he left, she took the box and chucked it on the couch. Tuesday came and he brought her a certified letter. This time she opened the door even further and still nothing at all. Erotic lingerie, she snorted. Obviously she would have to go a little further. Every day she would put on a new item and every day she would open the door a little further.

Every evening, she would readdress the package and take it back to the post office. She had sent herself this same box filled with balled up newspapers and a few stray marbles just to make it sound interesting every other day of this week. For the other days, she sent herself a bit of certified mail. She learned quickly to go to a whole new town, one where they did not know her because you would not imagine the looks you got when you mail yourself something and ask for it to be certified. That way, she would get something requiring the mail man’s attention every day of the week.

And, for every day of that week he would stand there, stone faced and staring straight ahead while she made idle comments and took her dear sweet time signing the little slip. And, for every day of that week, he would wander off wondering why in the hell anyone would stand there freezing to death in obviously erotic lingerie. And every day of that week she would wonder why they let the mailman walk around on this route without his white cane and the little dog.