Thursday, June 26, 2008

going postal


The voices of people were the same, no matter where you carried the mail you heard the same things over and over again.
"You're late, aren't you?"
"Where's our regular carrier?"
"Hello, Uncle Sam!"
"Mailman! Mailman! This doesn't go here!"
The streets were full of insane and dull people. Most of them lived in nice houses and didn't seem to work, and you wondered how they did it. There was one guy who wouldn't let you put the mail in his box. He'd stand in the driveway and watch you coming for two or three blocks and he'd stand there and hold his hand out.

- excerpt from Post Office by Charles Bukowski

3 comments:

Foulweather... said...

We should start a ring of Bukowski Blogs. Oregon Surf Blogs are so 2007.

Gazelle said...

I better not post any more about surfing. It is well into 2008 you know...

Gazelle said...

That is unless I can find info on Bukowski surfing. He did live in San Pedro, which has a couple fine local breaks.