Here on the planet Skipah (You won’t find this little rock between Earth and Mars with any telescope) some recent life changing events have happened. Did I win the Powerball? You are out of your mind if you think I would answer that honestly, but I did go to work today so use your imagination. My days as a full-time Amazon package handler (even though I was hired to do something else) are over!
Granted my time delivering diapers, 75 lb. boxes of God knows what, and various other cardboard surprises were quite the fun. I made some great friends and I learned that the next time I see a delivery driver in my neighborhood driving like an idiot, it is because he or she is up against it to get back home. Granted, you don’t do this when kids are around, but sometimes 25 mph just isn’t going to cut it when you need to be back to the house for your child’s bar mitzvah (for my Jewish friends of course) or you have concert tickets that you paid a small fortune for.
There is a certain code of Omerta that goes on out in the jungle of delivering. We all look out for each other and we all cut corners anyway we can. We will cock block a whole lane of traffic on a major thoroughfare to let our fellow brother(or sister) in arms get over without having to check their mirrors 23 times. In my short experience, the folks at FedEx will bend over backwards to commit unlawful moving violations to help you out. The UPS road staff isn’t too shabby themselves, and I actually had met up with the same driver a few times in one apartment complex and he would deliver to one quadrant of the place for both of us and me vice versa. We actually became texting buddies and anytime our routes were going to coincide we would try to meet up at the said certain apartment complex in Louisville to make both our days easier. It’s the law of the road in delivery land!
So what is next? I’m back in the construction logistics business, what I’ve known for my whole professional life. I’m not good at many things other than pissing off Miss Madison. However, I am great at making money for trucking companies (or at least I used to be), and a former colleague of mine recently reached out to me and was ready to go all ABBA and “take a chance on me.” The feeling was mutual and I accepted the offer on the spot!
My new employer heard a rumor.
Since I loved my old job so much (most of the time), and I got pretty proficient at it, they still loved my special brand of humor and were willing to let me work on various weekends from time to time. I treat it as getting paid to exercise, granted I don’t make physical trainer money doing it. This past weekend was one one of those times my special brand of humor was called for. Needless to say, I almost died. No, it wasn’t the unseasonably warm temperatures (90 degrees in May, WTF!), it was something else. In six months of delivering Amazon packages, I had a first happen to me.
It was Mother’s Day 2018 style, to pick up a little “side” money I agreed to work this glorious Sunday so all the moms in my part of the world would be able to celebrate receiving their favorite Jeff Bezos sponsored package(s) straight from the sweatshops of Thailand. My day was going just swimmingly until I was at my second to last stop. It was in a semi well-to-do neighborhood. Which consists of all the slices of Americana: A pool (any advice getting my pool to look like something other than a lake, I welcome), I love my guns yard sign (#Kentucky), and beware of the dog. Let us focus on that last bit of Americana! No sooner than I had delivered a little bundle of cardboard joy a cold chilling feeling came over me, and this had nothing to do with the amount of dinero in my checking account.
I think Miss Madison and I have spent more money on chemicals than we have on food in the last week. Coming soon an epic guide as to why Skipah has taken pool opening lessons from the Brazilians.
Unbeknownst to me, this renegade four-legged cousin of Cujo, had gone all Erwin Rommel on me and had me trapped between a locked door and his own personal theater of war (also known as the front yard), this behemoth had to go at least 150 lbs and was the result of a Chow prison raping a Husky in Attica some years back. His, or maybe it was her, I didn’t get a clean look at its unmentionables, deep bark signaled to me he might have been hungry and was craving human for a Mother’s Day feast. His eyes were peering in my soul, daring me to make a move, I was acting like a kid and screaming MOM!!!!!!!!!!!
Whatever its gender was, it had a bark that told me that I was going to die. However, its mannerisms suggested maybe he was a paper tiger. Either way, I was texting Miss Madison account numbers to my offshore accounts and GPS coordinates of my last known whereabouts. I’m not sure it was the 90 degree heat or something else but I may have felt a warm rush of liquid running down my leg. Eventually, this became a Mexican standoff between me and a future general in the canine military. Keeping Miss Madison apprised of the situation the whole time, this pooch would just bark from time to time to dare me to move. I was literally a rook going up against a queen one on one in this front porch game of chess!
Since it was Mother’s Day and all, I really didn’t want my own mother to read about her only son getting mauled by a hybrid Chow mix in the J-town district of Louisville. So I kept frantically ringing the doorbell hoping this damn homeowner would wake up and get his loose trained assassin corralled all the while not losing eye contact with it. Finally, I had enough of this and was about to call in my own personal air strike (911) when a neighbor realized what was going on. I don’t know if it was the fear in my eyes or the fact I was 50 shades of albino at this point, but this neighbor suddenly became my number one ally when he called for this dog who amazingly listened.
Is that a wolf That sounds more like code for “Yes! How can I spend the life insurance money!”, There hasn’t been a wolf spotted in this area since…….well never that I know of. I wasn’t driving either, my delivery van has better coverage than Sprint when it comes to using the Bluetooth.
Sorry to any readers for my use of the F-word, but sometimes the F-word is what gets you through the day. ESPECIALLY, when you are about to get mauled by a dog that was more pissed than a Bernie Sanders fan after learning what the DNC did to him in 2016!
With a brief opening to get to safety, I shot off the porch like Usain Bolt. Made it back to my vehicle and reminded myself next time I’m out delivering packages in this area to make sure I pack a stun gun and Scooby Snacks. Canine Rommel may have won this first battle, but I came out unscathed. Luckily I’ve read up on Rommel’s nemesis the great General George S. Patton. So if this renegade canine wants to go to war again I’ll have something for him!
About it for now, I’m two weeks into my new job and loving it! I forgot what it was like to be excited to go to work again. Summer is a mere few weeks away, and that only means one thing! Some more daddy/daughter adventures, only now its Miss Madison and the gang included. On tap this summer, my daughter’s first foray to Hilton Head (sans me…#newjob), more crazy antics, and oh the memories that shall be made!