I have always prided myself in trying to be as efficient as possible. Of course there is a limit to how efficient a person can be—at least I think there is. That being said, one of my feats of efficiency was installing a large mail slot in my garage door with a huge basket on the other side to hold all my important correspondence, like my magazine subscriptions, Bloomingdale’s sales catalogs, and coupons, so they are dry on arrival.
I thought installing this mail slot would also be a convenience for my mailman, since instead of going up and down the front steps to deliver my mail, he could bring it right to the garage door, which is at ground level.
On the first day after the mail-slot installation, I went into my garage, expecting my mail to be sitting neatly in my pretty basket. Instead, I found myself picking up mail scattered all over the garage floor. My mailman utilized the convenience of not having to climb steps as practice time for lobbing my mail through the slot like grenades. Maybe grenade tossing will actually be his next gig.
I started to wonder what kind of payback I could cook up for him to cure him of his need to play Rambo. This past holiday, when it was time to give him something, the idea came to me in spades. I bought assorted candies in those pretty little shopping bags—all nicely wrapped up with pretty tissue paper and colorful ribbons. When he came to deliver my mail that day, I yelled out, “Heads up!” and then threw it to him with my best imitation of a screwball pitch. When it hit him and he grabbed for it, the candies flew in all directions. I put on a big smile and said, “Happy holidays and a Happy New Year to you!” I then pointed to the basket on the opposite side of my mail slot and asked him, for his New Year’s resolution, to please slide the mail like a basketball shot instead of a grenade.
To say the mailman is alone in his idiosyncrasies would not be fair. He really shares first place with the newspaper deliveryman. Promptly every morning, the newspaper deliveryman tosses my paper smoothly under my car, allowing me two choices if I want to read my newspaper that morning: I can begin my exercise routine early and lie down in the driveway, shimmy under my car, get the paper, and then shimmy back out again. This option necessitates my changing clothes and taking a shower each time before I get any coffee or even glance at the front page. Or, I can take my car keys and pull the car out of the driveway, get the newspaper, and then pull the car back into the driveway.
Again, my thoughts turned to how to get even with this evil newspaper delivery guy, who is obviously as sadistic as they come. Payback came again holiday time when I was preparing my gift. In the envelope that the deliveryman includes each year pre-holiday time for the tip he is looking for (since he gives such exemplary service) I sent a note: “Your holiday tip will be waiting for you in the exact same place I unearth my newspaper each morning. I am sure you know where this is and will have no problem finding it—Happy trails to you!”

Anessa Cohen lives in Cedarhurst and is a licensed real-estate broker and a licensed N.Y.S. mortgage broker with over 20 years of experience, offering full-service residential and commercial real-estate services (Anessa V Cohen Realty) and mortgaging services (First Meridian Mortgage) in the Five Towns and throughout the tri-state area. She can be reached at 516-569-5007 or via her website, www.AVCrealty.com. Readers are encouraged to send questions or comments to anessa.cohen@AVCrealty.com.