Someone Hates the Mailman

Story Sent in by Riley:

I was out on my first date with Dylan. He picked me up at my place, we had a quick dinner, and were driving through a residential neighborhood on our way to play mini-golf when he suddenly slowed down his car, looked behind himself, and pulled over. I asked, "Is everything all right?"

He replied, "Everything will be. Hang tight."

He jumped out of the car and ran along the sidewalk, back to a house with a white mailbox out front. He then hit the mailbox with his hands, then grabbed it and worked at yanking it loose!

I climbed out of the car, ran over, and asked him what he was doing. He said, "Just setting something right. Get back in the car."

"Stop doing this," I implored him, "Let's just go."

He roared and twisted the mailbox free. He then brandished it above his head, stared me in the eyes, and laughed like an evil mastermind.

"I did it!" he said, "I did it!" He threw it onto the ground. I yelled and jumped back. He then scooped up the pieces, gave me a smile, stepped out into the street, placed the mailbox remnants there, jogged over to his car, and backed it over the mailbox, all while I watched him.

When he was done, he rolled down his car window and said, "Yeah, I've kind of killed my chances with you, haven't I?"

Without waiting for a response, he jetted away, leaving me alone in a strange neighborhood, near the house of someone who I assumed he didn't like very much. I called a friend, who picked me up and drove me home.