Written by susan allen-rosario
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Saturday, 22 January 2011

image for The mailman hates me and it's not my fault "The only language that we speak in our house is Chinese."

It's not like I called every catalog company in North America and said "Hey, could you please send me one of those neato catalogs that you mail out?"

That never happened.

I admit the girl can shop. But 50 new catalogs per week, 49 of which I have never ordered anything from? I'm afraid to go to the mailbox for fear of running into our Korean letter carrier. The last time he saw me he started yelling at me in short-choppy sentences.

"Too-many-catalogs, too-many!

(Why does he talk like that when he was born here?)

And if the number of catalogs is not bad enough, it's the KIND of catalogs that they send me that is strange and unusual.

If you made a profile of me from the catalogs I received; I would be a black woman who speaks Spanish, has had a mastectomy, carries a gun and goes camping (maybe all at the same time.)

Some of the ads and postcards I receive are totally in Spanish. I could have won a new car or a trip to Mexico and never known it, because I can't read the damn thing!

They even call me on the phone sometimes speaking in Spanish. The last time this happened I told the caller (in perfect English) that the only language we speak in our house is Chinese…

She didn't get it. I give up…

Perhaps I could come up with a clever use for catalogs. I wonder if they have a catalog for that…

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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