It was a bright sunny day in Phoenix Arizona. The sun was out and boy was it hot. I was watching TV with my shirt off, cracking a cold one, and that’s when I heard it. The noise, the noise I had been waiting for. The mailman had arrived.

               I got up immediately, wasting no time I rushed to the front door. You see, I had been waiting on this package for the last two weeks. I made my order on Amazon, and day after day I would be disappointed when my package hadn’t arrived, but today was different. The package had arrived.

               As I opened my door, my stomach dropped after seeing who my Mailman was. Postal Pete. Postal Pete had delivered mail to the neighborhood for about fifteen years or so. He was a veteran in the forces (postal force).

               You may be wondering why my stomach would drop after seeing Postal Pete, I’ve known the guy for fifteen years after all. To put it simply, I thought Postal Pete and I were friends. At first, it started casual, we would make eye contact, and nod our heads at each other. Soon it became small talk, he would ask me about my day. The eye contact would linger. The truth is, Postal Pete made me feel things no mailman has in the past. Postal Pete and I would talk about sports, my new sports car, and the weather. Postal Pete made me feel special. He even fist-bumped me.

               I bet you’re reading this picturing Postal Pete in your head, and I bet Postal Pete’s making you feel special too. I felt the same way until I walked outside one day and saw Postal Pete hand-delivering a package to my next-door neighbor. My jaw dropped. Postal Pete had never hand-delivered me a package! What was so special about my next-door neighbor Randy? I mean sure the guy was paralyzed and couldn’t walk but that doesn’t mean Pete gets to hand deliver him a package!

               I continued to watch, poking my head out of my front door. I watched closely, all I could do was get a better look and pray the mailman wasn’t postal Pete. Then I heard Pete say “Did you see the Suns win?”. My heart was broken. The Suns games were Pete and I main topic of discussion. Just like that Pete was telling another person, my own neighbor about the score and which player got the most rebounds. I slammed my door, called the postal service, and made sure Postal Pete never delivered mail in this neighborhood again. If I didn’t get a hand-delivered package by Pete, no one would.

               I was frozen at the door, watching Pete put mail into the mailbox. He looked different. He had lost some weight and put on muscle. I think he even had a new tattoo. “F*ck it”, I thought. I looked down at my feet and made my way to the mailbox. As I approached, I heard Pete mumble something under his breath. I looked up right as Pete was looking away. It was too late Pete hadn’t turned away in time. I could see the frown turn into a fake smile as Pete said, “Long time no see”. I responded saying, “Man it’s been so long how the hell you been?”. The truth was I didn’t want to talk to Pete, and even if I did want to talk to Pete I didn’t want him to see me all sweaty without a shirt on.

               Pete said he had been good, which brought back all those old feelings of jealousy. Pete stopped loading the mail, and turned to me, almost like he knew I still cared. Then he went into detail. He wasn’t happy to talk to me in the first place, which does make me think he knew I would still care. He said he was working on forty-fifth street now. I thought to myself, “The d**che rich neighborhood?”. He continued. He mentioned how everyone’s lawn was well kept, then he asked condescendingly, “What happened you lose your passion for gardening”. I couldn’t believe it. Pete knew I loved my front yard, Pete knew every Sunday at two o clock I would mow the lawn, I had never stopped in the first place, what the hell was Pete even saying? He sounded bitter about me making him switch locations. All though I was bitter too, I never would have brought up Pete’s band. But that’s just what I did. I responded to Pete, “Nah man I still mow the lawn every weekend. Must be the new fertilizer I’ve been using. Speaking of fertilizer do you still play the guitar for your band”. Pete’s eyes got wide, he looked at me before responding. Then he said, “Ha funny joke, yeah I still do play the boys just got back from touring. Actually, the whole mail man things more of a hobby for me now, I get to talk to so many cool people”, he said, almost like we were in a competition to one-up another.

               I couldn’t take it anymore, I directly asked Pete, “Oh so who’s your new favorite guy to talk about the suns with? Any one you fist bump yet or are you past that stage already”, I said quickly, right when Pete opened his mouth to speak, I kept going. “What about hand-delivering packages huh? You do that for the whole neighborhood?” Pete was stunned. His jaw had now dropped, we locked eyes and didn’t say anything. Pete spoke up after a few seconds of silence. He said, “I wouldn’t be hand delivering packages if you made an effort to talk about what I liked. We always had to talk about Devin Booker or your lawn, which by the way, is not as nice as you believe”. He then said, “Why couldn’t we ever talk about the Postal service? Or how Amazon almost took over the mail service? What about golf? Did you even know that I play golf once a week?”. I fired back, “Oh bull sh*t Pete, I always made an effort to greet you”. I was going to say more, but I realized Pete was right. I never cared to ask what he does on the weekend, he had invited me out to his band’s concerts and I always blew it off, not knowing that Pete’s band had made my favorite song.

               I looked at Pete, Pete looked at me, I hadn’t finished my sentence, and my eyes filled with regret. Pete looked down and handed me my package without saying anything. Then he turned around and drove off. I tried to get Postal Pete to stay so I could apologize, but he ignored me and drove off. I watched as his FedEx truck headed towards Forty Fifth Street, where he most likely ended up fist-bumping the whole neighborhood.