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Uncluttered (standard:other, 1916 words)
Author: SpotlightAdded: Sep 06 2001Views/Reads: 2701/1709Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Benny is recovering from a break-up by working at the Post Office. He is disgruntled!


--------A Spotlight Story 

There were seven bins of mail and dropped letters which Benny
begrudgingly began sorting again.  Six of these were in various areas 
of the Post Office, large white vinyl bags with rusted wheels, 
duc-taped tears, and faded blue lettering.  They presented some order 
in the mornings, when dumped letters and packages rolled across the 
floor like sea tides. 

The last bin was set underneath Benny's cluttered desk, touching his
left ankle as he worked.  Every fifteen minutes or so, Benny would 
carefully shift his ankle, opening the small, tan bin's garbage bag 
rimmed mouth, and slip a letter into the darkness with a smile. 

Little of his work allowed him to sit down, as he frequently trekked to
several different positions in the mailroom to drop a pile of letters, 
or play as customer service for those who frequently bought stamps, or 
mailed packages.  The other two employees only seemed to work with the 
customers if they happened to be passing by Benny's desk with empty 
hands.  Something that occurred more and more infrequently.  Carl, the 
muscles of the office, seemed to be forever sweeping when he 
occasionally walked by.  And Andy, or Andrea, who also sorted mail, 
shuffled letters into piles for the individual mail routes behind one 
of the tall, overly-heavy metal cabinets that separated the 
workstations.  She always tried to walk by with her hands full of 
letters (full enough so that she would not drop any and have to 
return), or deep in conversation with Carl, holding a broom over his 

He was much more comfortable this way.  One of his friends had jokingly
suggested he take a job at the Post Office and to Benny it had seemed 
like the most plausible and spiritual revenge.  After a fake and 
cheerful interview, the eight dollars an hour was his, and his demeanor 
instantly changed.  He became sullen and blatantly mean to all of his 
co-workers, nothing over-the-top, but he never conversed, he spoke 
freely about how ugly Andy was, in front of Carl, and how stupid Carl 
was, in front of Andy, was always sarcastic, and never answered a 
question.  Frustrated, his co-workers would stew over his comments all 
day, while the second they turned, a huge grin lit Benny's face.  And 
gradually over the last two months, conversation had dwindled down to 
two scenarios in a day. 

When Carl would walk in and dump the mail:  "There ya go."  and a smile.

"Nice shirt." Benny might say, or, "Yea, more work." 

And when Andy would happen to meet Benny while leaving:  "Bye." with no

"Bye, shitface." said Benny, or "Shut up." totally stoic. 

Of course Benny treated every customer with supreme respect and
cheerfully did as requested.  It was the scenario, knowing that his 
co-workers could hear his manic change in disposition, that amused him. 
 Maybe, they expected him to someday become disgruntled, so they 
continued to make the slightest attempts at civility each day.  That, 
was the joke his friend had suggested.  "Why don't you go work at the 
Post Office?  I think you're disgruntled enough."  When Benny actually 
did, his friends laughed, happy for him to finally get off his lazy 
ass, as they had another round of drinks at the bar. 

Revenge was the key word though.  Benny wanted revenge at the world, at
god, and most importantly for the one day almost three months ago, when 
he had received a single letter.  At least, he remembered, he received 
a letter and not a postcard.  At least, he was worth a hand-written 

As Benny sat at his desk, sorting the few remaining letters of the day,
he came across yet another.  In only one day he had seen "Pookie", 
"HunnyBunch", "Muffinkins", "Love-a-Bug", "Creampuff", and now a 
hideous "Scoopaloopapoopadoo" was scrawled into a pink envelope covered 
in hand-drawn hearts and arrows.  With a smirk and a flick of the wrist 

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