Friday, November 28, 2008

The Curious Case of Where the Hell is our Mail

Friday, November 28, 2008
Since moving to the staggering metropolis of Calgary, I have been fascinated by several seemingly ordinary things. To me, the whole notion of pizza delivery, a 24-hour gas station and mail brought right to my house pretty much rank up there with Santa Claus and the awesome smell of Disneyland.

Where I grew up, pizza wasn't delivered; your mom made it by herself on the rare Friday night the whole family was home (and then we played a board game). The gas station was closed after 5pm every night and not open Sundays- or Holidays. And the mail was brought to the post office, where it was sorted into p.o. boxes, and when you were old enough your dad sent you down with his keys on your bike to pick up the day's Coop flier.

How thrilling it was to have the mail carrier come by every day. Yeah, okay, I fully acknowledge that every single person reading this right now thinks I'm an idiot. But whatever, you! I was delighted.

But suspicious things have happened in the past few weeks.

First, our mail stopped arriving.

Then, our mail started arriving again, with illegible, cryptic messages scrawled across the envelopes.

At first, they were pretty clear: "Shovel or no mail".

Our sincerest apologies, oh Mail Carrier! It's probably important for you to realize that my roommate and I are NEVER HOME. No, seriously. NEVER HOME. EVER. EVER. Maybe for like, 20 minutes on a Tuesday or something. Otherwise, NEVER HOME. We take turns coming in, dumping off laundry/mittens/groceries, cooking food quickly, turning lights on and off, and bringing in the mail. The one night of snow we received- neither of us was home to clear the walk, and we really feel bad about it.

But then, the mail disappeared again.

When we did get one errant Natural Gas bill, it had a puzzling message on it. I sat on the step for about 15 minutes trying to figure out what it said. "Be Now Maaaail!" was about the best I could come up with. Sarah seems to think it says, "RE NOV DEFER".

My roommate, the responsible one, called Canada Post.

The mystery continues. My Glamour subscription has yet to arrive. And for once, the excuse, "Seriously, I didn't get your letter. Honestly. Our mail hasn't arrived" will actually be legit.

Stay tuned for what is sure to be an anticlimactic conclusion to the saga of the home mail delivery service.

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