Tuesday, September 20, 2005

oh snap...

It seems 916A is doomed into a failed relationship with the occupants of 916. Upstairs Ruth just sold her place to Upstairs Michael. If you’ll recall, the previous dwellers above us found nothing more frustrating than receiving ZoĆ«’s mail. While most rational people would take the problems of the world into consideration, chill the fuck out and simply put her mail in our mailbox, located mere inches from their own, our upstairs neighbors maintain a constant outrage.
First of all, our street name starts with an A. Thus, the 916A can throw a postal worker off. Second of all, it’s not like there’s a 916A and a 916B. We get stuck with the letter A, somehow making us the lesser occupant. Forget the fact that we have a better flat and get better magazines. Odds are, sometimes our mail will end up in the wrong mailbox.
Yesterday, my cell rang as I walked into work. It was Zoe, livid that she found a collection of junk mail addressed to her clipped together with a rather rude note attached. In a delightfully ironic twist, we also got some mail for the upstairs neighbor in OUR mailbox. Quelle horreur! In fact, his precious voter registration card was delivered to us. This is too good. Obviously, we can’t let this opportunity pass us by. Thus, I’ve drafted the following:

Dear 916,
We received your note and collection of junk mail clipped together, which sadly made it’s way to your mailbox and not ours. The nature of sharing a building, especially one with a mildly complicated address, is that occasionally, we’ll get each other’s mail. The previous occupant of 916 was equally as frustrated and we certainly understand why. We’ve done our best to contact the offending mailers and hope to see a decline in incorrect deliveries. That being said, we’ve found it best to simply go through the mail, pull out anything belonging to 916, open the door and drop it in your mailbox.
That’s right. We get your mail too. As if God wanted us the perfect opportunity to illustrate this point, attached please find your mail which arrived in our mailbox today. No big deal, of course. We’re delighted to be neighborly. We look forward to sharing this building with you and hope you’re enjoying your new home.
Warmest co-habitational regards,


Anonymous said...

You always win arguments, don't you?

Spots said...

and yet I still love to argue...I used to be friends with someone who then went insane. Once day he called me up to read off a list of my 11 apparent offenses, including the time I TP-ed his car which he referred to as "vandalizing my property." I debated discussing this with him, because why argue with a nut, but then took it on as an intellectual challenge. I timed myself to see how long it would take me to get HIM to apologize to ME. The answer: 21 minutes.

Amy said...

I remember that! Yes, sir, he was crazy. And not in a good way. I've seen you lose an arguement before, though. Remember the pronunciation of Majorica? Yeah. Not phonetic. Are you going to the free Gonnies show at Cobb's on Thursday?