Jetine

I pick the mailbox up and it's like barely hurt, really. I just sort of bent the post and the door's not looking quite right, but you know, we didn't have to worry about it right then because it's dark. I put it up, arrange it a bit, my back to her, and then turn around to be all Jeopardy like and be like, 'Hey, look at what I did? Your wonderful future boyfriend who's great in bed and loves children just picked up and put the mailbox I drove over back into the ground. Ain't I great?' I turn around, big smile, arms held out. She's not there. I sort of spin around, you know like, "Where the hell did she go and what the hell am I doing here? Is this Wonderland? Did someone kidnap her suddenly and pull her into the bushes? Does she need my help? Will she want me to help her after I ran over her mailbox? Is that an analogy she's going to use to break up with me in 6 months? 'Dating you has been the equal of you running over my mailbox.' Is she going to say, 'I should have known after you ran over my mailbox that you were a complete and total loser, and hey, you're balding'?