Mail, Mail, Who's Got Mail?

I don't get too excited about my mail, and I admit, some days I don't go out to the mailbox. It's not like people are sending me money in the mail or hot love letters; it's usually just bills and junk mail. Sometimes, the weather is really bad, the mail lady hasn't been there yet, I have a zillion things to do with bigger priorities, or I am in a hurry.

Evidently, according to my sister's and mother's reactions, the world may end if folks do not get their mail out of their mailbox each and every day without fail. They have both taken me to task and berated me about my lackadaisical approach toward daily mail retrieval. According to them, "bad things" could happen to those who do not check their mailbox daily.  Did you know mailbox doors can magically open and blow important mail all over the neighborhood, never to be found again?  Did you know a life-changing letter that needs immediate attention could be in a day's mail delivery?  Did you know rain can penetrate the cracks around the mailbox door and destroy mail with dampness?
  

I think there must be something wrong with me as I do not share their sentiments. As long as there's room for the mail lady to poke new bills in the box if I don't make it out there, it's okay. I haven't noticed any lightning bolts hitting the ground around me or the sky falling, so I'm not worried. If only I could train my cat to get my mail for me.

Lost (A Trip Inside Hollywood Casino)

Last week I drove to Hollywood Casino with friends (who shall remain nameless unless they divulge their identities!) for an afternoon of entertainment. While some friends headed to the steak and shrimp eatery, Friend A and I decided to hit up the legendary buffet.

I loaded some lovely pierogies, shrimp cocktail, and hand-carved ham on one plate, piled a second plate with salad, and headed for our table.  I couldn't see my friend. She's tall, but I didn't see her sitting at any of the tables; she must have still been at the buffet. I looked for our table. No luck.  I didn't remember exactly where it was. Therefore, I began wandering aimlessly, winding in and out among the tables with a plate in each hand. No friend appeared. No one yelled, "Hey, Sterling, over here."

People started giving me strange glances as I continued to walk around in a daze. Unsure of what to do, I rationalized I should look at people seated at the tables to see if anyone looked familiar. They all looked familiar (probably since I had been wandering for an extended period). My hands held two plates so fishing for my cell phone would be an adventure, and her hearing a phone ring in such a large, noisy place would probably not happen.

Finally, I saw a table with the receipt on it. The waitress still hadn't brought the drinks, but I knew when we arrived, the buffet was hopping. So I sat at the empty table and started to eat my salad. I noticed the corner of the receipt ended in .28 and I remembered fishing for 8 cents, but then I don't do numbers well. Maybe in the excitement of arriving at the casino and paying for lunch, I had forgotten the amount. Halfway through my salad, a nice-looking man appeared out of nowhere at my table.

"You're sitting at my table," he said with a smile. "But you're welcome to stay and eat with me."

Shocked, I started gathering up my napkin, plates, and silverware. "No, no. I'm lost. I'm sorry. I thought this was my table. I'm with a friend, but I'm lost," I babbled.

"Your friend is welcome to join us, too."

"No, no, but thank you," I smiled and hopped up out of the wrong seat to wander again with plates and now tableware in hand.

Still no friend. I didn't see her anywhere.  I didn't know what to do. I continued my aimless wandering. Eventually, I spied the hostess who had seated us and asked her for help. She plied me with questions in her broken English, finally comprehending my dilemma. "You have table or booth?"

"I don't know," I responded. "I'm lost."  I shook my head, trying to clear the confusion.  " I think it was a table. Back there.  I'm with a friend," I added again, "but I don't see her anywhere."

The hostess nodded, and then walked around for a moment, before beckoning me to follow her to the front section of the buffet seating. There was Friend A, sitting in a semi-circular booth with a tall back. She looked up at us in askance.

As I slid into my seat, I explained what had happened. She started laughing. She knew me well.  Finally between gales of laughter, she asked, "Was he good-looking?"

"Yes, and nice, too," I answered.

"That's a new way to pick up men," and she started laughing again.

Okay. I might be a little ditzy at times, but everything turned out well.  I had a short conversation with a pleasant man, the food was excellent, including the creme brulee for dessert, I enjoyed lunching with my friend, and I was "unlost, so I could head out and hopefully find my favorite big fish slot machine.  :)