I knew that when I became a homeowner, I would be responsible for things that I have never had to worry about before such as calling a plumber and actually having to pay for it myself or replacing the air filters in the air conditioner and NOT getting reimbursed by the landlord. But I never thought that within one week of owning my first house the mailman would knock on the door and explain that since I did not have a roadside mailbox, then I would have to pick my mail up at the post office every day until I installed one myself.
He said something about it being part of a plan to convert our neighborhood into a safer place to deliver mail since there is no sidewalk. Sounds legit, right? Wrong. Why? BECAUSE NOBODY ELSE ON OUR STREET HAS A ROADSIDE MAILBOX. I figured that by the time I got home from work yesterday, I would notice lots of brand new mailboxes and would get a feel for what kind of mailbox to buy and how to install it. Nope. Not a single mailbox had been put up and nobody was even measuring or standing in the yard looking like they might be thinking about how or where to install their mailbox.
I immediately decided it must be a practical joke that the neighborhood oldies had gotten together and organized in order to initiate Sarah and I into their little club since we’re the only people on the street under the age of 70. By now I’d become all nervous and paranoid thinking that I was gonna end up on some new show called Geriatric Punk’d where Don Knotts comes slowly rolling up from the distance in a wheelchair and announces, “Nnnneewww Nnnnottt Nnnunnnkd.” And I say, “Excuse me?” And he says, “Nnnneewww Nnnnottt Nnnunnnkd.” And I say again, “Excuse me??” And finally one of the cameramen says, “I think he’s trying to say ‘You got Punk’d'”
As it turns out, all NEW residents have to get a mailbox so that eventually, when all these old people move away (read: die) there will one day (read: soon) be a street full of nice shiny roadside mailboxes and then the mailman won’t have to worry about getting run over by a Pontiac Bonneville that is driving a full 8mph down our street.
August 19th, 2005 at 10:36 am
I laughed out loud at my desk reading this…that’s stinking funny!
I remember my mailbox issues with my first house. I came home one day, and the mailbox (the post and box…all of it) was just laying in my front yard. I didn’t move it for a few days, because I was researching cheap mailboxes and discussing with Allison on what kind of mailbox to get. During the days the thing was laying in the yard, our mail lady actually got out of her car and put the mail in the box! On the ground! Nice, but really random.
And the installation of mailboxes is a completely difficult and frustrating thing for me. I hate digging in Arkansas. Lots of rocks.
August 20th, 2005 at 8:07 am
on debra street, when we were the newbies, we got a notice that our mailbox (the one that was there when we moved in) was too far from the street. i moved it, and guess what, it was not the right height. finally i got it right.
the p-off-ice has a way of controlling the situation…they don’t deliver until you get it right.
August 21st, 2005 at 11:34 am
The mailbox in that picture looks a little photoshop-ed to me. I don’t think you can fool the USPS with a virtual mailbox.
Well, not for very long anyway.
August 24th, 2005 at 10:43 am
UPDATE: Even after installing the mailbox, I continued to receive mail in the old box on my porch. Finally, a few days later they warmed up to the idea of actually using the mailbox that they forced my to buy and install. Thanks, USPS.