Example 1

Wow, does time pass quickly when you're not doing enough.

Example 1: Somehow, the other day I was so busy doing some damned thing that I managed to flatten my neighbor's mailbox in the truck. I doubt I made it 100 yards, and in that space of time, I'd managed to tear out of my own driveway, get the truck up to nearly 50 miles an hour (20 over the posted limit, which is too goddamned low), while simultaneously opening the mail (it was an offer from Time magazine--a year for $20), and texting my business partner to inform him the 1099s had arrived.

At the same time, I noticed that there was a pedestrian walking down the street, and there was a crane being used to place trusses on a new school being built on my street. This combination of stimuli was unfortunate for one plastic mailbox, and the front end of the truck. I'm quite proud, at this moment that I saw the pedestrian, and the look on his face after the mailbox incident spoke volumes of his reciprocal pleasure.

I'll note here that there was no chance in the world I would subscribe to Time magazine. None. The magazine doesn't interest me in the slightest. I don't watch the news anymore. I try not to watch tv anymore. I don't even know what the hell I'm doing on the internet, for that matter...But I guess I felt like I had some void in time there. Unless, in that mailing there would have been an offering of a free mailbox. That would have been the confluence of events possible to get a response from my address. I already have world maps...

Anyway, the pedestrian had something of a funny look on his face after I'd locked up the brakes on the truck, spun the tires in reverse and wheeled in to the neighbor's drive. I said something I thought was witty to the effect of, "How'd you like that one?"

"I'm glad that wasn't me."

"Me too," the gentleman was walking in kind of a rural area, and I assumed he'd lost his driving privileges somehow, so to make it worse, I added, "and they let me have a licence!"

I think the humor was completely lost on the guy by this point, and he just kept on walking down the road. I picked up all the bigger pieces of what was left of the mailbox and started the walk of shame up to my unknown neighbor's door.

I'm a terrible neighbor. I didn't know this person, and even after flattening the mailbox, I have no idea who she is. What's worse, I don't particularly care who she is, but I did feel bad at the time about ruining her mailbox, mostly because it is a Federal offense. But here I am walking up to her door, mailbox empty except for all the shattered plastic inside. She came to the door with a big smile on her face. She must have seen, or at least heard what happened. "Hi," I said, "I'm your neighbor who runs over your mailbox!" She said hi back, and I continued, "I don't have an excuse for this, of course. It wasn't deliberate or anything, but I just don't take the time to pay attention to what I'm doing, and I don't obey very many traffic laws."

"Don't worry about it," she said. "It happens all the time. You know, you're the first person who's ever run over that thing and actually told us about it."

"Well, if I've run over it before, I'm sorry about that too. But I don't know if I've done that or not," I replied. I was telling the truth. I used to drink a lot. She now had a more apprehensive look on her face. "How do you want me to fix this thing? I'd be happy to replace the box."

"Oh, we'll take care of it," she said.

"You sure? I could get a steel one, that way I could really make a racket next time?"

"It's okay...really." I don't think she liked the entire situation any more than I did. So I gave her my name, and pointed at the house, and told her if she reconsidered how she could find me. Now, I was back on my way to get in a big fucking hurry to repair a tire...