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Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Duck hunters?

I stopped at the post office this morning. You don't exactly wait in line to drop mail. A little hesitation to let the guy at the drop slot handle his business maybe, maybe even a glance around to make sure someone else doesn't arrive at the same moment as you do, but not like standing in line. It was just enough contact with my fellow humans to be surprised at the strangeness of it all.

When I left the stamp machine and headed for the drop slot there was a guy dropping his mail. He was wearing a camouflage jacket, jeans, and lug soled boots. Not a military jacket; he was wearing the kind you see on American Sportsman. I couldn't help picturing him in some Delaware marsh, crouched in a duck blind. That might not have struck you as odd, but I live in the desert, and at that time of morning it is bitterly dry cold. Any duck in the vicinity is frozen, or stuffed. Okay, clothes are clothes and to each their own, him being dressed that way wasn't all that strange I guess.

The strange part was the guy who was doing the pause to let him get out of the way thing. He was closer than I was, so he went ahead of me. Hunting camouflage...jeans...lug soles...they looked like brothers in arms. I went out the door behind them; a string of three guys having dropped off our mail, two of them obviously on their way to ambush a duck somewhere. I couldn't believe it as they went their separate ways. Not only were they dressed in identical strangeness, but neither of them had given the other a second glance.

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