I am not thrilled with this week’s entry for Carrot Ranch. I feel like I need a lot more words in order to show not tell and I got frustrated and decided to go with “good enough” for this week. (Which it is not but there you have it.)
Rhonda really is the name of our postal person. We have one of those group mailboxes at the end of the street which I hate but which is typical for this area. And on Christmas night someone really did pry open the back of the mailboxes. They could only reach three or four boxes, one of which was mine. I was shocked and hoped they maybe got a credit card bill and were going to pay it for me! Most likely they didn’t get any mail at all as we had collected our mail on Christmas Eve and of course no mail was delivered Christmas Day and the damage was spotted on the 26th.
The post office took care of the situation surprisingly quickly and a new (and much nicer) mailbox was in place by the end of the week. When I went to pick up my new key I asked what they thought the thieves were looking for…drugs. And ironically my thyroid meds showed up the next day.
Rhonda stood in the windy monsoon rain and stared at the back of the mailbox in dismay. Twenty-three years on the job and she was still shocked every time she encountered mail theft. Her own sense of integrity was so innate that she could never quite believe people would steal mail.
She tried to remember what she had delivered the day before knowing the thief was most likely looking for drugs.
With a sigh she called her supervisor and then carefully stowed the current mail back in the truck before removing all the remaining mail from the damaged box.