2001-10-09 - 9:53 p.m.

The UPS guy who comes to my house everyday is a serial killer. You can just tell by looking at him. First of all, he wears those UPS shorts and matching socks. I know - all of them do. And, some of them even look hot in those uniforms. But, for some reason he looks like he's wearing my old Girls Scout Brownie uniform from elementary school - which is pretty creepy.

Second of all, he has greasy hair. And beady eyes. But, most of all - the reason you can tell he is a serial killer - is that he never looks you in the eye. He'll say in a monotone voice, "This looks like it's from Connecticut. A relative, ay?" I never tell him who a package is from. I mean, that guy has access to addresses and shit. He could write my mother and tell her I'm going to Boingo Boingo and never coming back. You have to be on your toes with these serial killers.

Think about it: Mr. UPS Killer can walk into my house and pick up packages. No one is monitoring how long that brown truck is out there. No one cares. He could come in, kill me, then package me up and send me to one of my customers. It's amazing what power these guys have.

The UPS man and I hate each other. It is an intense adversarial relationship. The only reason he probably doesn't kill me is because he knows that I know that he's a serial killer. I made sure of that by telling his cute vacation replacement that we do. I'm sure he told everyone down at the water cooler because he told me that they call him Forrest Gump. Sure, a psychotic Forrest Gump.

If I accidentally leave my sign "PLEASE KNOCK LOUD" instead of my "NO UPS TODAY" sign on the door, he'll "accidentally" forget to pick up my packages the next day. We have too much of a history for him to kill me. Serial killers tend to murder anonymous victims so they can't be traced back to them.

So, my advice to you is to get to know your UPS guy. You don't want to end up with your head stuffed in a second-day airmail package to Boingo Boingo.