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A Brief Story Interlude (Mail Carrier Ted)

When Ted was young, much too young to work, he would say becoming a mail carrier, bringing letters and magazines and advertisements and packages to his neighbors, was all he thought of, all day, and all night. For as long as he could recall, Ted had only one dream, and that dream was to deliver the mail.

Ted’s childhood friends would try to talk him out of it. “There’s not a lot of money in it,” they would tell him. “Not many chances for advancement in a career like that,” they would point out when they were older. “Yes, that’s all true,” Ted would reply, “but it’s my dream.”

“It’s all I ever wanted to do,” was Ted’s only excuse.

Ted’s parents told him to go to college and learn about the world. “You won’t get to know about it delivering mail,” his father would say. “You’ll never know what’s out there unless you go look,” his mother would follow. “Yes, that’s probably true,” Ted would reply, “but I’ll be delivering much of it.”

“It’s all I ever wanted to do,” was Ted’s only defense.

Ted loved the idea of being a mail carrier, more than he could put into words, and wanted only to deliver the mail. So when it was finally time for Ted to get his first job, he went straight to the post office in his town. And when they offered him a position as a mail carrier, a real chance to deliver the mail, he was happier than he had ever been. He was in Seventh Heaven; he was on Cloud Nine.

“It’s all I ever wanted to do,” Ted told his supervisor on his first day of work, a wide smile on his face.

“That’s nice,” his supervisor replied, and handed him his mail bag.

Ted learned the business of being a mail carrier: how to handle the mail, how to travel his route. He picked up the habits of a letter courier, and built up his leg muscles from all the walking it entailed. He was doing what he loved. He was where he belonged. There was no better life for him.

It’s sad, then, that Ted was an extremely bad mail carrier. He delivered mail to wrong addresses, and left packages in his truck. He showed up at the post office earlier than everyone else, but left later than the rest as well, since he always required additional time to sort through his pickups or handle his mail load. Often he’d forget to stop at a mailbox, or even which streets he delivered to. And on one occasion he lost an entire bag of mail, though he could never satisfactorily explain where, or how. His supervisor asked him why, with all the problems and repeated mistakes, why in Hell did he want to be a mail carrier?

“It’s all I ever wanted to do,” was Ted’s only explanation.

So it was a bittersweet moment for Ted’s coworkers when he was fired. They all knew how he loved being a mail carrier, but they were also very much aware of how awful he was as one. And they understood Ted had to be fired, because there really wasn’t anything else for his supervisor to do with him; he’d never accept any other position in regards to mail.

Ted tried to get work as a mail carrier at other post offices, but the few times he was given another chance, he showed his old incompetent ways, and after a while they’d let him go. Eventually he took a job bagging groceries at an A&P Food Market, but he never gave up on his dream, and sent applications to post offices all across the country. He’d rarely get anything back, and when he did, it was an apologetic note explaining why he was turned down.

Nowadays, those first postal coworkers who remember Ted stop to talk when they see him on the street, or have him as their bagger at the A&P. Many note his demeanor, which appears as happy as that first day on the job as a mail carrier. They may inquire how he’s doing, and a few are concerned enough to ask whether he’s still trying to be a mail carrier, somewhere, somehow.

“Naturally,” he’s apt to begin.

“Of course,” he’ll sometimes add.

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do,” is Ted’s final, inexorable response.