The story of a lifetime continues. Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4.
I reckon the time we spend in pursuit of the almighty dollar our working life transcends most every other chapter within our lifetime. It makes sense really given that for most of us we are selling 1/3 (or more) of every day for a paycheck.
Obviously our chosen career paths are not really a form of slavery or servitude. In fact, work is often a source of fulfillment and satisfaction that only comes from being a productive member of society. There is a sense of purpose and meaning as you resolve issues, complete projects, and contribute to the success of your organization. And of course it is good to have money to pay the bills.
Looking back from the vantage point of just over a year into my second retirement, I can honestly say that what I miss the most are the people I met along the way. The social interactions and friendships stand out much more than any of the big decisions that turned out right or any other accomplishments I might have achieved. Building relationships at work made me who I am much more than the actual work did.
And here’s the rundown of the actual work:
Before Government: I guess my first “real” job was as a paperboy for the Los Angeles Herald-Examiner when I was around 12 years old. By high school I was doing the usual bullshit work–car wash, pizza parlor cook, flagman at a motorcycle racetrack. After HS I graduated to such things as convenience store clerk, plastics fabricator, and route salesman. Then my baby girl came along and it was time to get serious. Or at least get a job with some benefits.
1976-1984–Letter Carrier, United States Postal Service (USPS)
To achieve employment with the Post Office required taking and passing the entrance examination. Your score on that test would be your place in the hiring queue. The test was offered for each individual post office, and since I was living in Orange County, California I had the opportunity to take the test several times.
I recall my first attempt was a passing effort but my score being in the low 80’s meant I was unlikely to ever be reached for hire (military veterans had 5 or 10 points added to their score). But each time I took the test my score would improve. I also developed some test taking techniques that helped. There was one long section of the test that was timed. I had difficulty completing that portion within the allotted time largely because you had to color in those answer circles completely. The testing monitor was always the same woman and I knew she took a smoke break while we completed an untimed test portion. So, instead of coloring in the circles, I just ticked them. Then while she was outside smoking I went back and colored them in correctly. Now, I don’t consider that cheating, just creative test taking. Regardless, I eventually got my score up to 95% and was subsequently hired at the Anaheim, CA post office.
I made it through my 90 day probation period and became a full fledged government employee. I actually enjoyed carrying mail and was a good and conscientious employee. My supervisor didn’t much like me though, in part because I was a smart ass. Hard to imagine, I know. One day my boss came out to do some “street supervision”. He asked me what I had left to deliver and I said just this apartment complex. He responded well, that will only take 30 minutes. I told him “maybe YOU can do it in 30 minutes, it’s gonna take me an hour”. I guess that pissed him off because when I got back to the office he issued me a letter of warning for insubordination.
And that’s how I became a shop steward with the National Association of Letter Carriers (NALC). The bogus discipline was overturned and I went on to represent other employees subjected to the arbitrary and capricious whims of management. I rather enjoyed my union work!
After my son was born in 1978 the wife and I wanted to get the hell out of Southern Cal and raise our kids in a healthier environment. And I was lucky enough to have my transfer request to Prescott, Arizona accepted. Damn, I loved living there! In due course I was elected to be President of NALC Branch #859. The good times ended with my marriage and it was time to move on. I needed help as a single father and my mom was in Oklahoma willing to provide it. So I transferred out to Fort Smith, Arkansas. I will always recall the words of my supervisor at my going away party in Prescott: “John, with this move you will achieve the rare accomplishment of raising the collective IQ of both Arizona and Arkansas!” Heh. Maybe he was right.
So, I continued on with the life of a letter carrier and shop steward n Fort Smith. They had this stupid concept of a van pool where five carriers would be driven out to their routes and dropped off. My route had the highest volume of mail so guess what, it took me longer to sort it. Which meant four other guys stood around waiting. Which made the supervisor upset. One day he came over to tell me to hurry it up and I responded “I only have two speeds, and if you don’t like this one you are going to HATE the other one. I got disciplined for that too but once again had it overturned in the grievance process.
Things were changing for me though. It was hot and humid in summer and I wasn’t used to that kind of weather. I kept waiting for winter to come but when it did I was slipping and sliding on ice all day long. But mostly the job had just become mind-numbingly boring. Some days I would carry my entire route and not even remember doing so because I had been fantasizing about a different life (one fantasy was becoming a professional gambler in Las Vegas). A woman I had met on my mail route, Iris Breed, was the director of the Fort Smith Girls Club. She encouraged me to apply for jobs in management saying I was wasting my intellectual talent carrying a mail satchel. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained I suppose. I applied for the Safety Specialist vacancy and surprise, surprise, I was selected!
Let me close out the history of my life as a mailman with this story:
It was a cold winter’s day in December and as I walked up to the porch of a house to deliver some letters, the front door opened and an attractive woman said “oh, you look so cold! Would you like to come in for some hot chocolate? I responded “that sounds great!” and she let me inside. As she served the cocoa to me, her robe fell open and I couldn’t help but notice she was wearing a see-through negligee underneath.
Well, one thing led to another and the next thing I knew I was in the bedroom with her having some pretty wild sex. When we were finished, she reached over to the nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out a dollar bill. I was confused and asked her “what’s this for?”. She shrugged and told me “when I asked my husband what should we give the mailman for Christmas, he said fuck the mailman, give him a dollar!”
Hey, it could have happened!
