Hick Is Looking Out For Your Tax Dollars

Before he left on his vacation out west, Hick tried on a new hat: investigative reporter. It was not a good fit. Not according to me. And also The Pony. It was like strapping a pointy party hat on a prize pumpkin, the elastic chin-strap stretched to the breaking point. At least we spared Hick the sting of the snapped elastic. We tried to let him down easy.

 

"You won't believe what I saw at Casey's. A mailman throwing mail in the trash! Two tubs of it! In Casey's trash can! I got a picture of her. I sent it to The Pony, to see if he knows her. Look."

 

I wish I had that picture, but Hick decided to clean his phone out on vacation, and the very night I asked him to send me the pic, he said he deleted it the night before. Oh, well. Your loss. It was the back of the head of a dark-haired gal, pumping gas.

 

"What does this prove?"

 

"I didn't want to be obvious about it. She could see me while she was dumping the mail. But I got her at the gas pumps!"

 

"She's not wearing a post office hat. So she's not a CCA. If she was a regular carrier, she'd have a uniform. Did she?"

 

"No uniform."

 

"Was she driving an LLV?"

 

"No. A little white car."

 

"If she was a rural carrier, she'd have her own car, but it would have the US MAIL magnetic sticker on it, saying it makes frequent stops."

 

"I didn't see that."

 

"I don't think she works for the post office."

 

"Val! She had those white tubs they put the mail in!"

 

"Businesses have them. I've seen people carry them into the post office, push them across the counter, and then get another one full of their mail. They take it out to their car. Or sometimes they bring in a tub full of mail, to be sent out."

 

"Alls I know is, she was throwing two tubs of mail in Casey's trash."

 

"They won't like that! They pay to haul it away."

 

"I know."

 

"Here's an idea. Maybe this gal was getting rid of ads that had expired. Like store ads. The sale expired, and she had to get rid of them. Maybe they were even Casey's ads. You don't know what they were."

 

"Well, I'm telling The Pony."

 

"He's not the post office police!"

 

"No. But he might know her, and he can tell someone."

 

The Pony was not impressed. 

 

"Dad. Other people can use those tubs to bring in their mail to us. Businesses. I've never seen that person. In fact, I don't know anybody at the post office with dark hair. They're all blond Karens!"

 

Nice try, Hickraldo! That was almost as exciting as the opening of Al Capone's vault.