Neither Snow Nor Rain Nor Angry Dad

Story Sent in by Alicia:

Doug and I were classmates in high school. We rarely ever spoke and I had no idea that he admired me from afar until he asked me out for a Friday night. He was tall, had nice eyes, and was a quiet guy, the latter of which I took, at the time, to be a sign of maturity. He said he'd pick me up at my house.

An hour before he was due to pick me up, I had just finished some homework and was readying to hop in the shower when I heard pounding from the front door.

My parents were home, and my mother answered the door. From the top of the steps, I heard Doug ask, "Is Alicia home?"

My mother replied, "I thought that you were picking her up in an hour?"

He said, "Yes, but I have to tell her that the postman's here. The postman delivers."

My mother, not missing a beat, said, "Okay. Great. She'll be ready in an hour. We'll see you then."

She closed the door and called me downstairs. She said to me, "I think he might be high. His eyes were bloodshot and he was talking nonsense. Maybe you should–"

Bam! Bam! Bam! The door shook with each smash, and my mother and I both jumped a dozen feet into the air. My mother yelled at the door, "Come back in an hour, Doug! She's not ready yet."

"Postman!" Doug yelled, "Postman! The postman delivers!" He repeated that phrase over and over, turning it into an impromptu song.

My father, a quiet guy himself, strode in without a word, walked past my mother and I, told us to stand back, then opened the door. He yelled, "Get the hell off my property, you crazy punk! You come back here and I'll break a two-by-four over your head!"

Doug scampered off, down the street and out of sight. My father watched after him for a bit, then turned to me, asked me a few questions about Doug himself, then told me to let him know if he came back or bothered me again.

Doug never did either.