Monday, December 20, 2010

The Pygmy Postmen Of Leamington Spa

Poor little blighters. It’s the weather, you see? It’s done them in. Finished them off. They’ve all gorn an’ bought it... Gone up to that little miniature world in the sky.

They were the Midland’s best kept secret. One of Leamington’s rarest breed of fauna. So rare, in fact, that I doubt that even the great David Attenborough has ever seen one, though if he ever tried to frank a letter in the main Leamington Spa Post Office he may have inadvertently stepped on one. They make a small squishing noise not unlike stepping on a Stag Beetle. Though unlike stepping on a Stag Beetle you don’t then get ear-ache from all the Stag Beetle’s mates effing and blinding at you for your carelessness.

I am of course talking about the Pygmy Postman. And while I’m at it I better throw into the mix the Tiny Taxi Driver and the Borrower Bus Driver too. ‘Cos they’ve all been affected. They all of them, to a miniature man, disappeared inexplicably from Leamington’s streets on Saturday morning.

It began with the snow. And I suspected it ended with the snow too. You see we had 3.5 inches of snow fall in Leamington Spa on Saturday. And, as I am sure you are all aware, the Pygmy Postman and his related species are only 3 inches tall.

Well, I mean, you do the maths.

I suspect the poor little buggers were swamped within the first couple of hours. Snowdrifts up to the kerbs and, in some places, clean over them! They were never going to cope. Not even with their boots borrowed from Action Man. The Bus Drivers are no doubt lying frozen solid under a garden hedge somewhere; their buses lying empty and echoing to the sound of non-existent commuters who were unable to get into town that day because of the positively Antarctic conditions that ravaged this little Spa town that I call home. The Tiny Taxi drivers I have more hope for as I suspect they are all merely snowed in to their local pub and dare not jump down from the doorstep lest they find themselves in need of a St. Bernard puppy to dig them out. No doubt they are even now swimming around a small brandy glass trying to make the best of it.

Us big people take it all for granted you see. We dig ourselves out of our homes; we haul the snow off our cars and in some cases some of us (like me) wade heel deep through the snow drifts and make our way to work under our own steam and never give a second thought for the little people who can’t do all that. The tiny people who, up to their necks in a few millimetres of snow and ice, find themselves quite literally out of their depths.

Please people, if you do nothing else for others this Christmas, can I please ask you to spare a thought for the diminutive breeds of our society? We rely on them all year round and it is only now, when times are hard and the Polar Bears are migrating as far south as Birmingham, that we realize the great all-year round service that these little guys offer us. Only when they are gone and pewling helplessly from inside their snowy tombs do we finally value them.

Poor little soldiers of Leamington Spa. I salute you.



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29 comments:

London City Mum said...

Delighted to say the pygmy (postmen) soldiers are an extremely rare breed down south.

Probably because they all drive round like nutters in red vans with no regard for us other (lesser) mortals.

Tsk. You can have them.

LCM x

Steve said...

LCM: as long as they bring my Christmas parcels and aren't put off by icing sugar on the roads they'd be most welcome.

Alienne said...

I think we must have them too as I haven't clapped eyes on a postie for a few days. The buses did run on saturday though of course it was all too much for south eastern trains.

Steve said...

Alienne: you must have Titchy Train Drivers. I wonder if we can get Inch High Private Eye to investigate?

Trish @ Mum's Gone to... said...

My trusty postie pedalled his way to our house today in the fog and frost - he must be a Giant: fee fi fo fum.

Steve said...

Trish: a giant among men, certainly.

The Dotterel said...

Well, MY postman insists on wearing shorts... even in temperatures of minus 7. He's well 'ard. Or stupid.

the fly in the web said...

And if they survive the snow I suppose they'll be washed down the drains when it melts.

So no sign of your parcels, then....

Steve said...

Dotterel: well 'ard? Blimey! Just how high cut are his shorts?!?

The fly in the web: I've got more chance of spying landfall in Narnia.

Rol said...

I'm glad to see you finding a positive slant on the postal service (for my own experience, I direct you to my latest post... which, as my only regular reader, you will no doubt see anyway).

Still, they're putting the price of stamps up 5p in the New Year... so maybe the service will improve then.

Maybe.

Steve said...

Rol: 46p for a first class stamp?! Outrageous! Practically half a quid for some fat postie to hoof it around the sorting office, wipe his arse on it and then scrunch it up through my letterbox. Still, I guess it'll teach me to import porn from Scandinavia the old fashioned way. Really must get into this internet thing. I hear it's going to be big.

Mark said...

So that's why I have no mail - the letter box is too high. Got it.

Steve said...

Mark: the intelligent postie tends to use a catflap.

Nana Go-Go said...

My Waitrose man arrived half-an-hour ago, on the worst night of the year weatherwise : going to be -15 here tonight. I `God Blessed` him for coming out on such a night.... and I`m not even religious. It`s all good here.

Steve said...

Nana Go-Go: plainly they like their men big at Waitrose... which is all to the good!

Gorilla Bananas said...

Pygmies don't belong in cold places. What you need is sherpas, yetis and a wicked ice queen who'll give you a ride in her sleigh. Would you have the guts to hitch a ride from a wicked ice queen?

Steve said...

Gorilla Bananas: if she offered me Turkish Delight and looked like Tilda Swinton - yes, absolutely.

Owen said...

Watch out Steve, not only will you have Miranda Hart after you like an enflamed rhinocerous in rutting season, but she will be trailed by hordes of pygmy posties straight out of Gulliver's Travels. After the pygmies tie you down, Miranda is going to settle your account.

You might want to think seriously about Somalia. I hear the standard of living is going up dramatically there, with all the cash they are raking in hand over foot. Soon they will be hiring away our posties and taxies and bussies and parcel people... then we will be in a real bind.

Steve said...

Owen: Miranda can come and settle my account any time - here, Somalia or Milton Keynes; it's all good to me.

EmmaK said...

I dunno, maybe the Pygmy Postmen are given the day off in the UK if it's icy or snowing? [you'd have to write a letter to your local council] Here in Baltimore they have to complete their round come hell or high water - like in heavy snow they'll still be delivering at 10pm at night - what a shit job eh??

Steve said...

Emma: they have the right idea in Baltimore. I'd horsewhip the lot of them until every last letter and parcel was delivered. Whatever happened to the "the mail must get through" ethos?

Being Me said...

Can't get the image of the Dotterel's postie frozen to the seat of his bike now... eww.

Steve said...

Being Me: I'm imagining something not unlike a pair of deep frozen faggots... (or meat balls if you prefer).

TimeWarden said...

Spare a thought for the bin men too! A late postal delivery is always followed by an even later garbage removal in this neck of the woods!!

Steve said...

TimeWarden: the bin men... aren't they the ones who resemble Hobbits?

Stegzy Gnomepants said...

Having not had any mail at my Leamington Spa residence for ages I thought I'd Google to see if there was any explanation.

I found yours.

I will be more careful where I tread.

Thank you for clearing up a mystery.

Steve said...

Stegzy Gnomepants: me and Google, we're like that... bringing cutting edge information to the whole world...!

Organic Motherhood with Cool Whip said...

I had a postman once who delivered mail very much on his own schedule. And even in his own clothes. He would come round at 10 pm in his board shorts and tank with our parcels. We weren't sure if he was dedicated or slacking.

Steve said...

Organic Motherhood with Cool Whip: we have one like that in Leamington - wears shorts even in winter and has his lips, nose, ears and eyebrows studded and pierced to high Heaven... I guess his bosses don't know where to begin and so have given up.