Sometimes I call people and tell them they have won a big prize but they have to answer some questions first. I start out with pretty simple stuff and gradually move deeper down field. After getting an alma mater and job description, one guy told me how he used to steal mail from post office trucks. He’d wait for the mailman to load up and take off down a street and then he’d get in the truck and get a bunch of the mail. “They never lock those trucks!” he proclaimed. Apparently the guy stole thousands of dollars from people by forging signatures on checks he got from the mail trucks. He said he used to steal from McDonald’s delivery trucks too. He’d wait until the monopoly game was being played and then he’d intercept a whole box of the french fries with all the game pieces. He was up to his ears in free drinks and apple pies for a year.
“What’s your favorite cereal?” the trim blonde haired lawyer asked. “Honey, uh, something of oats” I replied, “the one with the honey dripping onto the flakes on the box.” “I know the one,” she said. Three days later a cereal box was delivered by mail, covered in a graffiti of hearts and “i love u’s”. Every second day she sent me a declaration of wind tossed love. There were watercolor pictures, photographs, button up shirts and long letters about how she felt. She felt great apparently—blown away by love. It didn’t last very long. Six weeks if you want to know. Being loved like that is actually kind of dangerous. If someone ever tries to tell you that it is better to have loved and lost, watch out. They probably just want to have some sort of quick fling and then return to their ordinary life. The problem is that it takes a real long time for life to feel ordinary again after having one of those Nicholas Sparks experiences. Four years later and I sometimes feel a muted sliver of hope when I go for the mail.
