The Blog of the Evil Jermil Sadler

As a kid who thought he was an adult but still acted like a kid most of the time, my friends and I did a lot of dumb stuff in college. Some of it was dumb as in nobody should be doing this. But some of it was dumb like something a 7 year old would do and think it rocks.

One thing we used to do whenever the situation presented itself was have elevator races.

I’ll first explain what I mean by elevator race…

It starts when two or more people (usually who know each other) are waiting for an elevator. One person presses the button to call the elevator. The elevator approaches that floor. Coincidentally, some random person is on the other elevator and is coming to that same floor. Both doors open at approximately the same time. The two people who were waiting on the elevator make eye contact and immediately run inside separate elevators and press the button to the same floor. The first one to make it to that floor jumps out of the elevator and yells out that they made it in hopes of doing so before the other person.

I was reminded about this childish practice when I was leaving my apartment building last week.

I was getting off the elevator at the first floor and some 7 year old kid came running in yelling ELEVATOR RACE!!! I looked in the other elevator and his mom was in it smiling. It gave me fond memories of a more carefree time in my life. Then I was repulsed at the thought of being 18 or so doing the same things that a 7 year old does.

In the end, the warm glow of the fond memories won and I basked in it until I got to work where a dark storm cloud followed me for the rest of the day.

Have yourself an elevator race today! It’s quite a rush and takes away from the monotony of riding an elevator.

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When I was flying to San Diego on Friday, I had a layover in Denver. Pretty uneventful.

On the flight from Denver, a young couple sat next to me. A slim young girl and a big, burly, football player type guy. They looked to be high school aged.

The flight was about 2.5 hours and they didn’t bring anything to occupy themselves. I had Narendra’s book The Complete Idiot’s Guide to the Kama Sutra. Life was good.

The guy eventually got his laptop out and played on that for a minute or two. Then he passed it to his ladyfriend and she started playing that lame pinball game that comes with Windows XP. She quickly got bored of that and started playing Solitaire.

She seemed like she didn’t know much about the game except how to play it. The guy had to tell her to double click on cards and they’ll pop up where the aces are.

After a few games, she was finally getting close to winning. All she had to do was click on all the cards and make them pop up to where the aces are. That’s when I decided to step in.

I told her that if she hits ALT and F4 at the same time, it’ll put all the cards up there and she won’t have to double click them. What it really does is closes solitaire completely similar to going to File > Exit.

After she did it, I couldn’t stop laughing!!!

Unfortunately, she didn’t get pissed. Her and the boyfriend laughed cheerfully.

I guess sometimes… Evil Is Good.

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This is a story about a guy I met on one of my mail routes.

Two other casual carriers worked there besides me. One guy who was younger than me got fired. He actually was “asked to quit”. They ask you to quit because if you get fired from the post office, you can never get hired again. They asked him to quit and he whined and complained and they said he cried because he didn’t want to quit. They eventually explained to him why quitting was better than being fired and he conceded.

But he usually did the same route while he was there. After he was gone, they had me do that route.

It went pretty smooth. Not too many abandoned houses or houses that were destroyed by fire. No random dogs walking around the yards or barking at me through the mail chute. It was a pretty decent neighborhood overall.

One day while I was delivering mail along that route, I had to get a signature for a certified letter. Some guy came to the door and started talking all friendly to me while I was waiting for him to sign.

He asked where the other guy that usually delivered the mail was. I told him I wasn’t sure what happened to him. (I didn’t want to spread around that he got fired.) The guy started telling me he was a music producer and he gets the hookup in the clubs in Detroit. I said “oh cool”. Somehow we exchanged numbers and we were supposed to hang out eventually.

I didn’t think much about it until he called the next evening.

During the phone conversation, he started asking all of these “getting to know you” type questions. Questions like “where are you from”, “where did you go to college”, “how old are you”. Awkward questions for a guy to ask another guy. At first it was cool, but he kept asking more and more personal questions. It started feeling like he was a young lady I just met and we were getting better acquainted before our first date.

It started getting really weird. He then asked me when I would be delivering mail around his block again. I told him I didn’t know. I actually didn’t know but even if I did, I wouldn’t tell him. The whole thing was getting WEIRD.

I asked him why he wanted to know. He said,”Because… I want to see you.” I almost dropped the phone.

I said, “WHAT?” He said, “Because I want to see you n***a!”

Right when he said that, my mom walked in the room. I looked at her dumbfounded. She looked at me and said, “What?” I didn’t know what to say.

I told the guy that I’d call him back and hung up.

I told her the whole story and she laaaaaaaaughed and laaaaaaaaughed.

I never saw him when I did that route. He called back a few more times but I didn’t answer. He stopped calling. All of this happened in November. I ended up quitting around the beginning of December.

THEN!!! He called me on christmas and of course I didn’t answer. He left a voicemail wishing me a merry christmas and happy new year. I got creeped out all over again. I had nightmares for the next 3 months!!!

Not really but it was creepy all over again.

I didn’t hear from him again after that.

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Back when I used to be a mail carrier for the United States Post Office, tons of the most insane things happened. I’ll post one of the weirdest stories Friday. Today, I’ll talk about why I was delivering mail in the first place.

After I graduated from college, I got a job offer from a company in Virginia. It seemed great and I was all for it. But, for various reasons, I had to wait a little while before I could actually start working. During this time, I was sitting at my parents’ house in Michigan while those things got sorted out. I was bored and did nothing all day.

My dad was retired and he kinda wanted another job. He was thinking about applying for the “casual carrier” position for the Detroit post office. What casual carriers do is fill in at a particular post office wherever they’re needed. They do a lot but the position is only temporary. A casual carrier works 90 day cycles and can only do 2 of those cycles per year. The goal is to do so well that you’ll become a real mail carrier.

My dad had applied and really wanted to do it. Since I was sitting around the house, he suggested that I apply too. I told him I shouldn’t because I’d end up taking his job. I also didn’t want to drag sacks of mail around. He said “hogwash”. I applied.

I got a call not too long afterwards that said I can come down to the main post office in downtown Detroit. My dad was a bit upset that I got the interview and didn’t even want it. But I think he was more upset that they didn’t give him that same call.

The interview was an information session where they gave all of the rules of being a postal carrier. They made me fill out a fat application packet where I had to give background information and such. They also gave me a date to meet up with a driving instructor so they could make sure I was able to drive with the steering wheel on the right side.

I went through the process a little too smoothly and ended up getting the job. The job was a lot of hard work, a lot of walking, and a lot of fun. I met some interesting people in the post office that I didn’t keep in touch with. I also met a lot of people while I was delivering mail that I couldn’t get away from fast enough. Friday’s story will be about one of those people.

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I see this guy who looks like the used-to-be fat Al Roker in the cafeteria at work.

Whenever he gets his horrible burger and bucket of french fries, he heads back off to his girl scout cookie crumb-covered desk. I bet he eats those things with one hand (masturbation joke).

But as he walks back through the halls to his horrible, disgusting, smelly desk, he is stuffing his fat face with whatever garbage he just bought in the worthless cafeteria.

I think it’s gross when someone is so physically fat and soulfully gluttonous that they can’t wait until they sit down somewhere before they start stuffing their muzzle with their nauseating meal.

I could slightly excuse if you want a sampling of the garbage that you just bought and decide to chomp on a greasy french fry. But to stuff fry after fry into your fat gullet is just unclean and nasty and filthy.

If you need to eat that bad, eat in the cafeteria! Pay for your food, sit down 10 feet away from the cash register, stuff your smelly, fleshy face, and go back to your grimy desk with pictures of your fat wife and dumb kids.

So gross.

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