(…with apologies to Martha & The Vandellas.)
One (or more) of the local avant-garde intellectuals decided last night that the time was right to pull my mailbox and its supporting post out of the ground. Presumably they were inspired to do this after spending their dole cheques on some cheap booze, which is always a great source of inspiration for ad hoc performance art. As is witnessed by the number of vomit splots that appear around the footpaths of the town centre after every Friday and Saturday night.
I was alerted to this by a knock on my door about 8AM. A quick glance out my window revealed that it was the police. By the time I had put some pants on – it’s probably not a good idea to front the cops naked from the waist down – they were gone, after thoughtfully depositing the mailbox on my front porch. I guess the ‘performance artistes’ had strewn it across the footpath, so the cops were just doing their bit for public safety.
Why do people do this? My best guesses are:
- because they’re morons
- because they’re morons who drink, thereby reducing their already limited cognitive abilities
Perhaps they were ‘inspired’ by a spate of mailbox trashings that occurred on the other side of town earlier this year. Alcohol-based empowerment: “someone else did something brainless when they were drunk, so that makes it okay for me to do it too”. I guess it’s asking too much of these people to think, let alone to think for themselves.
What to do? Nothing, except plant my mailbox back where it was before Monday. So, they’ll do it again, and I’ll put it back again, and… they’ll eventually give up when they realise they’re being laughed at.
Given their apparent level of intellectual impairment, especially after gurzling down a few litres of cheap cask wine or whatever, this could take a while.
Update 16/7/12. The mailbox has been restored to its former glory:
Took me all of about two minutes. Over to you, alcohol-sodden losers.
Update (much later): checking around my neighbourhood over the subsequent few weeks I noticed that two other mailboxes had also been removed from their moorings and the one across the street had been the recipient of a punch worthy of Anthony Mundine (assuming it wasn’t a kick).
The common theme seemed to be that they were all easy targets – the ones that were bolted to metal fences or attached to buried concrete bases were untouched. The one across the road must have come as a painful surprise to the perpetrator. Wear boxing gloves next time, clown.
Eyesore In Armidale 