Somebody Say Stickers?

February 26th, 2009

If you know me, you’ve probably noticed that damn near everything I own is covered in stickers.  I’m not sure when it happened, because I wasn’t like this in school.  When I was spending most of my time traveling to Phish shows I started gathering great stickers, and since I had no car I amassed quite a few.  While I have my fair share of political statement stickers, I’m partial to the kind you only see at shows.  I know that I am comforted when I see a fellow driver on the road with a subversive little Stealie plastered on a nice new shiny car.    Or better yet, on the magazine of a gun worn by a man who has sworn to protect me.  I purchased some good ones before the holidays, spurred on by a customer who wanted a Stealie for his daughters car.  I found a wealth of old school lot stickers at Purple Moon,  and waited for the delivery.  And waited.  And waited.  By the end of the month, I was convince that this was the third act on a series of blunders by the USPS.  They had lost a $90 laptop battery and some cellular gear previously, but nothing bothered me as much as the lost stickers.  I was obsessive.  I was pissed.  Then I just forgot about it.  

My old landlord swung into town this week to check on his new tenants, and while he was visiting he mentioned that they had recieved some of our mail.  I came home from work and there it was.  It was like I had sent myself a package from the future…or something.  Sorry about the bad blood, USPS.  You still suck, but I can’t pin this one on you.

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