My father was a letter carrier for most of his adult life. He put in 36 years with the U.S. Postal Service and he worked hard. His route was in Rahway back behind Milton Lake and he walked many, many miles each day. He was out there in the worst weather. He never cut corners. His feet were a terrible mess. Once he was even bitten by a dog and had to go to the emergency room for stitches, but as soon as he was released he went straight back to his route and finished delivering. He'd be the first to tell you that's nothing worthy of extra credit. That's just what you're supposed to do, every day.

Then there's this lazy, fat wildebeest of a postal worker. Check her out as she can't even park the vehicle on the street and walk up to the house like she's supposed to. No, in her desire to avoid as much work as possible, she gets creative.