Journey to the Mailbox

I am living in a condo. So instead of having my own mailbox at the driveway of my house, I have a community mail spot at the corner of my street. Still, I am not that far away from my mail (only four houses down). Yet there is so much that tends to happen on my journey from home to mailbox.
The following is a collection of stories of the adventures that may occur when going to get my mail.

The Shirtless Masculine Man
I was on my way to get the mail, and I catch sight of this guy walking down the street. This man was a masculine man, and has gone through a lot of trouble to be seen as being as manly as possible. He had a shaved head, was covered in tattoos, and was extremely muscular (the husky, meat head type of muscle that makes guys resemble a brick wall), and he was striding down the street with his shirt off (showing all that fabulous muscle). And yes, I was looking, totally checking out his amazingly toned physique.
Then he clears this line of cars that blocks my view of seeing anything from his waist down , and I just start laughing. This man's man, this tribute to masculine values and structure, is attached to a small, girlie, chiwawa by a pink leash. This little dog is daintily trekking by his side, looking as anti-masculine as anything possibly can.
The contrast between the two was just too much for me. This guy must have a girlfriend, a wife, or a daughter who obviously loves this little dog very much, and this guy was taking it to do its doggie business.
I hope he loves the girl he was doing this for very much, as he compromises his masculine image by walking with it.

Let Sleeping Students Slumber
There are masses of students who flock to my neighborhood because of my proximity to the college. Many of them park in my neighborhood in order to avoid buying parking permits at the school (which right now can run you $120). Students are an interesting group in and of themselves, and one of the things we students are good at is catching sleep where ever we possibly can.
It is not uncommon to see students sprawled asleep in the student union between classes, or crashed in the library. Where I work, students have dubbed one of the couches 'the nap couch'. any where there is a chair, couch, or floor, on or around campus is fair nap space for a student.
So on one walk to the mailbox, I see a car. And our one window on one side of the car there is a pair of feet sticking out. And on the other side of the car, out the other window,there is an arm.
I was curious and the car was on my way to the mailbox, so as I passed the scene I darted a passing glance into the car. There in the back seat, stretched out of each window, door to door, was a tall young man, slumbering peacefully (Yet very loudly. This kid could snore!). He was using his backpack for a pillow and was clutching his skateboard like a favorite stuffed bedtime toy. His sleeping position did not look comfortable at all, which is a distinct identifier of a sleeping, over worked, often over stressed student.
I slipped quietly passed and continued to get my mail. Trying not to laugh too loud, and wake him up.

Lots of Tiny Twisted Metal
I had made it to my mailbox safely and without incident! I grabbed my mail and was headed home.
And then it happened. the key to my adventure. Actually keys. Two clumps of community mailboxes over from mine there was a set of keys still in the lock.
It was an entire set of keys; house key, car key, mailbox key (obviously), and who knows what else (it was a hefty amount of keys). And the big problem was that there was no one else around.
I'll admit I walked away. Twice. I didn't make it home either time, and if anyone was watching me I'm sure I looked funny pacing back and forth between a power box and the mailboxes. After struggling with my conscience and brain, I ended up taking the keys from the mail box and attempted to figure out with which house they were associated.
I believe my thinking process is genius! First I stared at the mailbox where I had found the keys trying to figure out the address just by the mailbox. That was a fail, but I did figure out what street the mailboxes belonged too. Second after thinking about how much I did not want to knock on every single door on that street, I looked at the keys and saw that there was an automatic lock set for a car, with a panic button! Yay! I hit the button, and a car alarm starts to sound. Unfortunately that car alarm also sets off several other car alarms, but it did give me a smaller area to cover. After wandering around for awhile clicking the lock button I discover the car these keys go to. We have assigned parking in my complex, and the car was in a driveway.
I considered just leaving the keys on the car. I was a little nervous about being found with these keys and having an owner freak out about how I got them before I could explain. I'd freak out if a stranger showed up at my door with my keys. Eventually I got the courage to knock on the door. In the seconds that followed I was so nervous. I was praying that the car was parked in the right spot, that the person would listen to me before they got scared, and that they were home (I mean I had their keys, where could they have gone?). The door was answered by a frantic woman, who seemed frustrated and in a hurry. I held up the keys and before I could get any words out, this woman was hugging me. I'm not a person for hugs often. I'm a love from a distance type of person, so it was difficult for me not to freak out when this stranger grabbed me around the neck. After she let go, I explained the situation, babbling through most of it. She thanked me (this entailed another hug), and offered me a reward for the keys which I declined (fearful that this might mean another hug). I smiled and walked away, my quest was accomplished, a good deed was done, and another adventure was completed. I feel I worked hard to take my mail home that day.

Call of the Can
Not a lot of people send me mail. Most of what I get are Netflix movies, bills, wedding invitations, and junkmail. Most days all I get is junkmail (although lately wedding invitations have been a close second).
Thankfully, there is a trashcan right next to the mail center. One day it was all junkmail. I quickly scanned between the pages just to check and see if anything else was hiding among the advertisements, and then chucked it all into the trash can, hearing it thump to the bottom quite loudly., and walked back home.
About 30 minutes later I am frantically searching for my cellphone. I have my roommate (at the time) call it so we could find it by listening for the ring tone. The house is silent. The phone is not in the house. In full panic my mind starts racing for possible places I could have left my phone. Then I remembered the loud garbage can thump.
Like a made woman, I ran out the door, while my roommate called my phone again. I was not alone in the mail area when I dove in to the garbage can and answered my ringing cellphone. Oh no, fate is not that kind. There was a person there, an innocent bystander.
I retrieved my phone and answered it, trying to walk away from the mail like nothing had happened. Like answering a phone in a garbage can is normal. Leaving that person to wonder about a girl living in a mailbox garbage can.
Thinking back I should have picked up the phone, answered it, climbed into the garbage can, and taken the call there. Looking back this was not only my adventure to the mail, but also an adventure for that other person who saw me while getting their mail.

Oh so many adventures. Now on to the next one, as I go once more to get my mail.