One of the great things about moving to a new apartment is learning the quirks of the neighborhood.  I had a conversation with my mail lady that went something like this:

Mail Lady: “Since you don’t have your names on your mailbox, I usually just put all the mail in your neighbor’s box.”

Me: “There’s a large number 1 on our mailbox, why don’t you put all the mail marked ‘Apt. 1′ in our mailbox”.

Mail Lady: “It’s not my job to sort the mail”.

Me: “I’m pretty sure it is.”

Mail Lady: “It’s not.”

Damn. I clearly lost that battle of wits. And now the mail lady is probably spitting on my mail. So, moral of the story, if you mail me something, I’m probably getting it late  (and possibly, slightly wet).