CURBSIDE ETIQUETTE

Through the Eyes of a Delivery Goddess



Below you will find links to dates when new entries are added. The stories will not necessarily be in chronological order, but rather as I remember them. I am dating them so that you can skip to new ones you haven't read since the last time you visited, and so that you are more easily able to find something you found humorous to share with others.
Voices


Just this week I was chatting with a co-worker about the possibility of parallel universes, multiple dimensions and poltergiests. We both shared some odd experiences from throughout our lives. Bob and I have always said we have a little bit of abnormal activity in the house, but nothing scary.

The area in which we deliver papers is primarily an upper middle class, so the items they toss to the curb are often still in good condition. If we find a good piece of furniture that someone has obviously set out with the intention of having it picked up by scavengers before the trash removal engineers come, we usually grab it and donate it to someone in need... or store it until we find someone in need. It's amazing that many people would rather put a coffee table out on the curb and set it a few feet from the rest of the garbage, rather than sell it on Craig's List or in the local paper. Bob delivers in some nicer areas, and delivers earlier in the morning and has more opportunity to go shopping than I do (or perhaps he is just bolder than I am). Friday morning, he brought home the most hidious looking little girl's makeup table that I think I have ever seen. Personally, I would never have bought it in the first place, and I certainly would not have picked it up "second-hand"; I can't imagine playing with something that ugly as a little girl. Then again, those of you who know me well, know that I never played with dolls as a kid, but had an envious collection of Hot Wheels and Matchbox cars, and my two lonely barbie Dolls are still in their original boxes.

Last night, right around midnight, I woke up to hear what sounded like a child's voice downstairs. My first thought was that I'd been dreaming and it woke me up. But then, I heard it again - about three seconds of a child talking. I cursed my sleeping husband for leaving the TV on downstairs. I slid out from under the dog and covers, and dragged myself down to turn off the TV. When the TV was off, I stood for a moment confirming to myself that I had been awake enough to know I heard someone talking. I walked to the bottom of the stairs and took two steps onto the floor of the "Front Room", and something to my left spouted off again. Bob was also at an auction on Saturday monring and bought a bunch of M&M Character figures, so I was looking for one of them to be talking, or rather, malfunctioning. I heard it another three times before I could narrow it down to that wretched make-up table. There is a mirror in the middle, and half of a large doll sticking out of the left side of the table. I think the idea is to brush her hair and maybe put on her make-up. As I picked it up, it spouted off another cheery sentence at me. I flipped it around and then over, looking for a battery door. On the bottom, I finally found a likely suspect, and next to it, appeared to be an "on/off" switch, which I pushed in, and retreated back to bed. Of course, I could not go back to sleep.

At least I can survive another day knowing I do NOT have voices in my head.