Tell the UPS Man to Cut it Out, or, Why I'm SO Not Fantasizing About the Man in Brown

My office is on the "outside wall" next to the front porch. So whenever I get a delivery (which is fairly often, since I order special snob coffee almost every three weeks or so) the UPS guy sort of stomps on the porch, (which is my first clue that something is about to happen) then rings the doorbell rapidly twice,* drops my package like a hot potato, and sprints back to his truck with a speed that would make Donovan Bailey (fastest man in the world) go "Wow. Dude. Slow it Down Some." (I'm assuming. I didn't actually ask Mr. Bailey what he thought).

By the time I get over the sudden adrenaline rush from an unexpected doorbell at almost 6 pm on a dark and rainy night, rush to the front room, and open the door, the UPS guy is a butt in brown pants leaping into the truck like some sort of brown leaping thing. (I couldn't think of a good simile. Sue me. And I know the link is to a green jumping thing. We can't all be perfect.) The funny (ha ha) thing is that the last package had a "signature required" label on it. Did he get my signature? No. Not unless someone's been giving me memory wipes again. (Damn CIA).

So offically, I am not in crush/love/lust with the UPS guy. He gives me the willies cause he just sprints away like that. He also makes me feel bad, like the unattractive old landlady in Kingpin that Woody Harrleson's character had to sleep with for his rent money. (who is actually pretty attractive in her publicity photo). Am I so hideous that the UPS man has to race away from my door before I can even make it the 12 feet down the hall and back to answer his doorbell? I realize he's in a hurry, but man, I'm not an ogre!

Why, oh why, am I so frightening to the UPS man?

I just wanna be loved, is that so wrong?!

*causing me to yell "darn you kids: stop ringing that bell!!" while shaking my fist at them, even though there actually are no kids and I'm hallucinating again....