I moved to the Island from Vancouver a couple of years ago, and one thing that really made an impression on me here was my new mailman.

In Vancouver I had been used to only the friendliest of mail carriers, who would be guaranteed to give you a warm smile and greeting no matter where our paths crossed. My own mail carrier there varied from person to person, but no matter who it was, they were always kind, courteous and helpful.

So now I live in Nanaimo and I have the mail carrier from hell. Despite my early efforts to be friendly, he wanted nothing to do with any of that and flat-out ignored me. That was fine. When his job demanded that he interact with me, as I attempted to refuse a package from a customer that had mismarked the value for customs, his reaction was to yell and intimidate me. Then he made up a story about how I had called his supervisor demanding this package be delivered. I was dumbfounded. When I still refused the package he slammed my own door in my face and stormed off. That was not fun.

I put up a new security fence a few months ago, and it was in no small part due to the mailman. Even though I knew he’d have to enter the property to reach the mail slot in my front door, somehow it made me feel a little better knowing the fence was there. Well, it turns out my mailman didn’t like my fence as much as I did. The first day he couldn’t figure out the latch and stood outside my gate as I slept, yelling my house number at the top of his lungs and wolf-whistling. After about five minutes of this I finally woke up and stumbled outside to see what on earth was going on. A couple of my neighbors were also peering over to see what all the racket was about.

I was reprimanded about the gate and took the mail that was shoved at me. A few hours later once I was actually awake I went outside and made a more visible latch-pull for the gate. This worked for a few days. I didn’t get any mail for a few days, but anyone else who needed access had no problems.

Then it happened again. My house number being screamed out and the whistling while I was in dreamland. It seems the latch-pull had not entered the mailman’s field of vision. This time I stayed in bed and hoped he would go away. Instead I heard a loud crash at my front door. I jumped out of bed and went outside to see that he had tied up all my mail into a tight ball with elastic bands and launched it at my screen door, leaving a dent. When I opened the bundle, my new credit card was uselessly folded in half. I called his supervisor.

A few more days passed of no mail delivery. Then the screaming and whistling again. This time, quite upset, I went outside to see that he had ripped the latch right off and could therefore not open the gate. I went up to him and was told that I had a flimsy latch on my gate as he offered me the broken pieces. I told him that nobody else had had any issue with it. He gave me the look of death and pushed my parcel over the fence and into my garden. “Oh, sorry”, he said. I picked it up, looked at him and told him that I didn’t think he was sorry at all. Then I got the double look of death. “What did you say?” He growled. I repeated myself and he spun around and stormed off yelling at me to call his supervisor. I did.

Of course since Canada Post is a monopoly that is funded by taxpayers and unionized, there was no way this guy was going away, so I did the only thing I could, I had them hold my mail at the depot. For months I had to drive one place to get mail and parcel notices, then drive another place to get parcels. It was inconvenient to put it mildly.

Until a couple of days ago when I finally finished building and installing my new wire mesh mailbox! This box allows me to keep my gate locked, and my mail safely inside my property. It still needs a flap on the front opening and a roof on the top of the mesh box to keep out the rain (not an issue lately!) but other than that it is working like a charm. And keeping my yard angry mailman-free.