...
Right?
Also, my part is sunburned from all my open moonroof swooshing around the turns and so has become demoralizingly noticeable. Shit like that can ruin everything, but I didn't get mad about it until yesterday. Good thing for my new Solari cap. Now everyone in the greater Khoonkhwuttunne area wants to know.
I ran into the UPS guy in front of the post office. He's about 7'9" or 8'6" or so. He yelled, "FRECKLES! And, oh my gosh, yer wearing pants." This is a rare sighting for him. He almost always pounds on my door, hunched in the mudroom, and I have to tell him I don't have any pants on, and so he turns his head one way while I hide my fanny on my side of the door the other way. I mean, technically, it's covered, but not really. So we work it this way. He laughs and hands me my Peet's package. Whenever I've got my pants on I try to run out into the drive and brag about it... plus save him bumping his head on my normal-sized entry.
He could only be a UPS guy. He probably has to drive that truck for personal use, too, because I don't think they make cars that fit him.
Everybody at the post office was dying to know how my trip was. I think I have now cheered up almost everyone in the area... except for a few errant terrified old people who never cheer up for any reason and one or two pissed off hispanics who also never cheer up for any reason. Otherwise, even the dealers at the casino who rarely leave their dark sanctuary to marvel at my record of no gambling with money for my entire life are pleased as punch about it. The pharmacist is tickled. The cable company clerks were, none of them, there and Dawn doesn't get back to her post until Wednesday, but, oh, joy, the little sweet bank clerk who used to work at the credit union that went belly up so dramatically a couple years ago has gotten a job at my new credit union and we got caught up on everything, everything, everything.
It's official.
I'm well and truly back at my hole in the ground.
always and any time....
