The Adventures of David Walker: Showdown at the Post Office

As many of you know, my life story consists of a series of bizarre circumstances and cases of me being in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was the time my car got fire-bombed. The time I walked into a drive-by shooting. The altercation at a Fatburger in Los Angeles where the police got called. Being escorted out of book festival when someone very vocally threatened to kill me. The multiple fights I’ve had to break up. Me stopping the drunk guy trying to rob a UPS truck. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. But yesterday’s encounter with insanity was the craziest of them all.

Hard Times at the Post Office

I read an interesting story today in the news about the financial woes facing the United States Postal Service (click here to read it). It got me to thinking about my time as an employee of the USPS. For those of you that don’t know, I chronicled every day I worked as a temp at the post office. You can read all those entries here. Start with DAY 1, and then work your way to the end.

Going Postal: Day 26

Day 26: The Epilog

The first things I discovered when I went to work for the United States Postal Service were that nothing makes sense, and no one knows what is going on. I applied and was hired as a temporary holiday employee. When I showed up for orientation, I was informed that I had actually been hired through to the end of February. When I showed for my first day in action, I was informed that I had been hired through December 2008.

Going Postal: Day 25

Day 25: Going…Going…Gone Postal

My paycheck was not waiting for me when I arrived at work, on time, and ready for my tour of duty. Needless to say, David Walker was not a happy motherfucker. There are all sorts of reasons why my check may have been delayed in getting to me, but I didn’t give a rusty, flaming or holy shit what any of them were. It didn’t even matter that I couldn’t go to the bank and cash the thing—I wanted my check when I was supposed to get it, not 19 hours late (which is what it was). My eyes were bugging out of my head and my nostrils were flaring, and I was channeling Priest from Super Fly—“I want my mon-nay tooo-NIGHT!!!”

Going Postal: Day 24

Day 24: Where’s My Money? I Want My Money!

Last night was significant for two distinctly different reasons. First of all, this last shift marked my one-month anniversary as a member of the United States Postal Service—although it seems more like a year. The other significant thing was that last night was payday, and our checks weren’t there. Apparently, all that sanctimonious bullshit about neither rain nor sleet nor gloom of night applies to the mail, but not the paychecks of the poor saps who see to it the mail gets delivered. Needless to say, I am pissed off. To quote Big Worm in Friday, “You see, it’s the principal. There’s principalities in the whole thing.” I’ve been busting my ass, and even though I complain like a whiny little bitch on my website, I keep this shit to myself while I’m on the battlefield.

Going Postal: Day 23

Day 23: Just Another Brick in the Wall

After getting the day off for Christmas—in which I slept most of the day—it was back into action yesterday. Now it is tomorrow, which may seem a bit confusing to some people. It’s like this, when I left for work it was yesterday (Wednesday), but by the time I got off it was tomorrow (Thursday). Some people say you get used to it—starting work on one day, finishing the next day, and then going back to work the same day you finished—but after five weeks I can say that I have not gotten used to it, nor do I think I will any time soon. Some people also said that this week would be much easier than the past weeks, because the holiday rush was over. Those people were dirty fucking liars. The only thing that is easier is the days are now shorter—I’ve been sent home after only working eight hours on two occasions. That, my friends, is what we call a Christmas miracle. And miracles, are the way things ought to be.

Going Postal: Day 22

Day 22: Merry Christmas

As I sit down to write this, it is officially Christmas. So, Merry Christmas…if that’s your thing. For my present, the United States Postal Service was kind enough to let me go home after only working eight hours. But have no doubts, they still worked my ass like my name was Kunta Kinte. It may have only been eight hours, but it still felt like twelve.

Going Postal: Day 21

Day 21: The Reluctant Hero Has Sex with Midgets

It has been many years since I read Walter Tevis’ science fiction novel Mockingbird, but parts of the book have stuck with me, and lately I’ve been thinking a lot about it. Set in a dystopian future, where the human race has become overly dependent upon technology, and as a result has been slowly moving toward extinction, the book chronicles Bentley, a man who learns to read after the rest of humanity has become illiterate. Bentley is cut from a similar cloth as Guy Montag, the reluctant hero of Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 (another favorite book), and in one of the book’s most profound moments, he stumbles into factory that manufactures toasters. The factory is staffed by simple-minded androids with no power to think for themselves, and as Bentley watches them go about their routine of manufacturing toasters, he notices that every toaster the androids assemble does not work, so it is thrown in a pile of defective units, taken apart and reassembled in a never-ending process. Bentley discovers that the reason the toasters do not work is because the conveyor belt that delivers a simple piece is jammed, and since the androids aren’t programmed to think, they can’t fix the problem. As Bentley corrects the problem, he realizes that he has not had toast since he was a child, because there were no toasters.

Going Postal: Day 20

Day 20: The Anniversary

I don’t know if anyone noticed that I didn’t show up for my Thursday night shift and frankly, I don’t give a rusty fuck. My mother took me to see Jesus Christ Superstar, starring Corey Glover as Judas. For those of you that don’t know, Jesus Christ Superstar is my favorite movie of all time. And when I say that, I mean it is my favorite movie of all time. I also love the play (as does my mother), so we try to see it when it rolls through town. It was a special treat, because Corey is a friend of mine, and gave a powerful performance. He had two performances on Friday, and we were going to try and meet up in between them, but it never happened. If we had gotten together, it would have been a perfect opportunity to implement my new plan—which was showing up late for work with no excuse.

Going Postal: Day 19

Day 19: David Walker vs. the Demon

The first time anyone told me that I would never amount to anything, I was about seven or eight years old. It was the art teacher at my elementary school, who had a problem with the way I wanted to paint a picture (or some shit along those lines). I remember her telling me that kids with attitude problems like mine never grew up to be anything. I heard things like that many times over the years, all the way through college, and every time I heard it, a voice in my head would respond, “Fuck you. I’ll prove you wrong.”