Valentine Heartburn

February 22, 1991|By Mike Bowler

SWEET, comic Valentine, properly addressed and stamped, posted at a collection box in downtown Baltimore Tuesday, Feb. 12.

Destined for funny Valentine wife who lives eight miles to the northwest in ZIP 21207.

Valentine's Day passes. One-half pound of junk is delivered. No Valentine. Friday passes. Saturday passes. Much junk, no Valentine. Monday, U.S. Postal Service rests, no doubt exhausted from labors.

Tuesday passes. More junk. Valentine sender tries to mollify would-be recipient, by now doubtful that Valentine was sent in the first place. Sender is having doubts, too. Maybe he sent it to another Valentine by mistake. "You're my favorite work of art," sender declares weakly. Gets scowl in return.

Valentine, postmarked Feb. 12, arrives Wednesday, Feb. 20. Sender calculates it has moved at the rate of one mile per day, 220 feet per hour. Sender figures that for the U.S. Postal Service, each day is Valentine's Day.

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