I think I'm a magnet for some of the stranger members of our society, either that or it's the uniform. The uniform probably does have something to do with it because 'Joe Public' thinks if they spend a few pence on a stamp they own my soul. Its obvious from the fact they don't know me but still have a pet name for me like 'Postie' or 'Pat' or if I don't deliver their Giro 'Useless Cocksucker'.
Today a young lad (late teens?) walked up to me and asked me where the nearest post box was. Now it being my first day on the delivery and having not got my bearings yet I had no idea and told this to you young lad. He looked at me like I was an idiot but said nothing then he turned on his heels and ran away from me until he got to the end of the street where he stopped and carried on walking as if nothing had happened.
This was definitely odd behaviour, well it was to me but not as odd as the elderly gentleman who stopped to talk to me as I was entering my house. By the time I get to my front door I like to think I'm safe but not today. I was chaining up my bicycle when the old boy walked up to me and started to fondle my saddle. Not a normal occurrence but hey, each to their own! I have a gel saddle apparently (he seemed to be some kind of expert) it was a spare one DJ had in the shed (no I don't know why she had a spare saddle either) and I put it on when mine split. This is when the old boy started telling me that he'd been looking at all different sorts of saddles because he was worried that the one on his bike was too hard and was damaging the tube that ran from the end of his penis.
Now he'd need to spend more than a first class stamp to keep me there listening to that so I left him admiring my saddle hoping he'd be gone before I had to do the school run!