In my neighborhood we have those "kiosks" for our mailboxes -- you know, one central area in the neighborhood where you go to get your mail. I miss having a mailbox where I just grab the mail as I come in the house, but, we live in a newer neighborhood than all that.
Today, as I found my way home from a very productive NxNW Theatre meeting, lunch with our friend er... Mimi, which is her nickname and not her real name because she's pretty famous and she thinks the nickname Sexy Beast is amusing, even though her nickname is Mimi... anyway -- and a jaunt to Precision Camera, which to me is as exciting as a being a fifth grader at Fiesta Texas (LOVE it!) and a visit to GMan's HEB, I circled around on my way home and got my mail.
As I approached the mailboxes and swing toward them (on the wrong side of the road but politely) I noticed a HUGE, Ford Pickup approaching the mailboxes on the correct side of the road. I stopped where we'd have room for the both of us, and got my mail. As I left, the woman driving the HUGE Ford Pickup got out of her truck but then got back in -- I guess she forgot her mailbox keys.
I travel back to my house, and realize once I gather all my goodies that she's getting out of the truck in the house next door to mine. She's my neighbor.
That's ok. But here's the deal. I hope she didn't drive that big huge truck from her house to the mailboxes. It's like, 50 yards, maybe. I hope she was picking her mail up on her way home from somewhere, just like me. That truck is big, and... uh... gas is $3.97 gallon now.
She was nice, all the same.
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