Dear Mr. Postman,
I just want you to know how much I appreciate your tireless effort to deliver the mail, be it rain, shine, snow or sun. Everyday, despite the risk of losing your fingers, you gladly insert letters into the mail slot, no matter how ferocious the growling Schnauzers may sound. You work hard to make sure that I receive every single “no strings attached” credit card offer thrown at me by the crumbling loan industry. You don’t bat an eye when I hand you a big box filled to the brim with yarn, no matter how strange it may seem to you. And I can always count on you when I need a bit of crack yarn to brighten a dreary day.
So even though I am deeply appreciative of your years of dedicated service, I can’t help but be a little disappointed today. See, I’m awaiting a very important package right now, and I’m not sure you fully understand the weight you bear with this particular parcel. It all started last week, when I was innocently checking up on my Flickr friends, when I came across this photo. My heart lept. Could it be? No way. Surely they’re sold out, I told myself. But something from deep within told me to try anyway. It was with trembling hands that I hastily clicked “Add To Cart” and then “Checkout”, hoping to claim my bounty before someone else. 30 seconds later it happened.
I had acquired a Fiddlehead Mittens Kit. The most coveted pattern and yarn combination ever unleashed upon the Internet would soon be mine. I was as elated as Ralphie, when his father pulled out one last box to reveal a Red Rider BB Gun.
So you can imagine how my level of excitement and anticipation has been building all week, since the kit shipped on Monday. I was sure it’d be here today, waiting for me to come home, but I can’t seem to find it.
I checked the outside mail box.
I checked the indoor mail slot.
I checked the front porch, the space in between the front and screen door, and the side of the house. All I was able to find was this lousy credit card offer.
Don’t think me a fool either. I ship a whole lot of stuff with the Postal Service, and I am very attuned to how long a Priority Mail package should take to arrive. I’m very good at reading in between the lines of your cryptic delivery status messages, and I’m almost certain that my mitten kit is in New Mexico. You may say that it arrived too late to get placed on your truck today, but I say that’s not good enough. This is not an offer for Propecia we’re talking about here. This is a very sacred package, which definitely warranted a trip back to the station for a pickup.
Because I’m a nice guy, I’m willing to give you one more day. And maybe, if you’re really diligent about bringing my impulse yarn purchases this year, I’ll knit you a pair of socks to keep your feet warm this winter. Does something like this suit your fancy? It certainly does mine.
So get some rest tonight, because you have a very important job to do tomorrow. Oh, and if you could tell a colleague up in the WA area to make sure that my mystery gift gets delivered tomorrow, that’d be g r e a t.
PS: If you do not deliver the goods tomorrow, I will be forced to let my attack Schnauzers follow you back to the station to retrieve it. Dallas would love nothing more than to give you a huge wet willy.
Sincerely,
Adam
























