Damn, Mailroom Guy!

I try not to talk too much about my job here, since I don't want to get my ass DOOCED, but I have to share this story.

We have the CRAZIEST mailroom. I don't know what is up down there, or who is in charge of hiring these cats, but DAMN. They pretty much say and do whatever they want...including make suggestive comments to helpless females who happen to be down there late, desperate to get packages out on time. Anyway.

So, there was a poobah down there for quite awhile. His name was Louie*. He was cool. He always packed everything up nicely, got your packages out on time, sent you the tracking numbers without having to be asked. He never complained about having to stay late to get your stuff out. Then one day Louie went on vacation and the computer, which is directly linked to The One That's Brown. The computer crashed and because Louie was such a poobah, no one else knew how to use it, so they had to call The Guy from the shipping company to come fix it.

And kids...they found alllll types of porn. ALL types. You name it, it was on there. Turns out Louie had subscribed to these sites using the shipping company's AmEx. Louie was promptly fired. I felt bad for Louie, since he had a girlfriend and some kids, but c'mon. There should be no porn at work, unless it's what you do for a living.

Then there was the diabetic mailguy. He worked my section. He was cool. He wore these HUGE coke bottle eyeglasses. He was painfully shy. He could barely muster up enough confidence to ask you to sign for a package. When we found out he was diabetic, we put out sugar-free candy for him, but he wasn't interested in that. He always loaded up on the cookies and such that are forever in supply here. One day he was gone, and when I inquired as to his whereabouts, I was told he had LOST HIS SHIT all over someone in the company and had been fired! Not Painfully Shy Coke Bottle Eyeglasses Diabetic Mailguy! Alas, it was true. I still gave him the benefit of the doubt and blamed it on his blood sugar levels.

We got a new mailguy. He was cool. He had a Crazy Eye, but I think I did a good job looking past it. He always called me "Ms. Wright." "Here you go, Ms. Wright." "Would you mind signing for this, Ms. Wright?" He was smart and caught on fast, despite whatever handicap the Crazy Eye may have caused.

Today, Martin came by with the cart instead of Crazy Eye Mailguy. I was like, "Martin! Where's Crazy Eye Mailguy?" Turns out, CEMg was in the CLINK over the weekend! I was incredulous! "But he's so polite!" I said. Martin gave me a dubious look. "He was arrested." "For WHAT?"

WHO WOULD ARREST CRAZY EYE MAILGUY?

So, by way of explanation, Martin offered, "He got his income tax refund." Understanding cleared the web of confusion. "Ah, so he partied? Got in a fight? I can't imagine someone messing with him! He's so nice!"

Again, Martin's dubious countenance launched a rocket of doubt through my mind. Still, I was unprepared for what followed.

"Well," explained Martin, "more like he cashed his check, went to a crack house, the house was raided and he got caught in the sweep." That such a hypothesis could even enter into the realm of possibility forced my jaw to the floor. This time Martin shook his head in the affirmative. It happened. CEMg was caught in a crack bust.

No more "How are you today, Ms. Wright?"

Crack is whack.