Sometimes I wonder how my co-worker gets on in life. She's a few years past thirty. She doesn't know how to drive. We don't live in New York City. We don't live in any city. We live 40 miles from Bakersfield in a remote rural location. She wasn't a 4-H kid either. If she has a hobby, it's playing Mafia Wars on Facebook. So she's quiet. Doesn't Wear Make Up, doesn't go out, doesn't get her hair cut. But it's even more mysterious than that. She doesn't say "hello" doesn't say "good-bye." The one time she responded to me it was to grunt in absurdly displaced anger.

I used to amuse my self by trying to imagine what might have happened to her to make her so odd. This is a person who doesn't bathe very often either. When we work in a small work space it can be eye-watering. Why should she care? The only person she sees is me, and then only for an hour or two before she walks home to the apartment she shares with her equally odd sister and her dad. I swear I am not making this up.

She receives netflicks in her post box, I should know because we work in a small contract station together. How did she get this job I am sure you are wondering. It must be kind of hard to do an interview if you won't talk to people. It must be impossible to make a resume if you can't type, have no work experience and no money to pay a service. She actually just showed up one day and started stuffing mail when her mother was too sick to come in. We thought it was temporary, my boss and I. But she just kept coming even after her mother passed away. Here we are now 4 years later, strange girl and I.

Strange girl was told by someone that mail goes in the post boxes. She bends down and stuffs it whether there is room or not. I'm sort of charmed and sort of freaked out by the way she continues to try to cram letters into an area that is completely full. Clearly she has neither received a bill her self in life, not ever opened the box from the other side. Of course not, she doesn't do anything except walk to work and back. She sometimes mutters cuss words under her breath. Not to me, but out loud none the less.

Travels among the very strange. I know she isn't afraid if being robbed because no amount of telling her to lock the door will induce her to do it. Her father pops in like he owns the place. Well I can't care more than my boss, although I'll admit it makes me uneasy that these two strange people have so much access to the US mail. Strange doesn't equate dangerous, I understand. But Strange is Strange.