Things I like—part 2

One night I couldn't sleep, and at about midnight I heard a truck rumble slowly down the empty street and stop in front of our house. Since I wasn't anywhere near falling asleep, I got up and peeked out my blinds. What I saw made my pulse beat a little faster and made me wish my room was in the back of the house. A big black delivery-type truck was idling in the middle of the street. I squinted to see if I could read any letters on the truck or see any people, but the night was too dark and my vision isn't that great. But then—movement on the front porch of our neighbor's house! A man dressed in black and wearing a headlamp was walking toward the front door!

Do I call the police? Do I wake up my roommates? Do I go back to bed and pretend I didn't see anything?

As I debated what to do, the man bent over and left something on the porch.

Oh my gosh! It's a bomb!

I was definitely freaked out by now. The man picked something up, turned and jogged back to his truck. Just as I was about to run and wake someone up, his headlamp illuminated the side of the truck, and I could make out an image.

It was splash of milk. He wasn't a burglar or a terrorist, he was delivering the morning's milk and putting it in a cooler on the front porch.

Now, whenever I'm still awake at midnight and I hear the truck, I get up and watch the milkman. He'll be out there in the quiet night, even in the snow and wind, and he's always so quick. I wonder if it's a lonely job; he doesn't seem to have a partner. I wonder how many other people watch him, and how many times he's had to deal with paranoid neighbors.

Anyway, the milkman is something I like about Colorado Springs, I like knowing that if I'm still awake late at night, I can peek through my blinds and see someone who is as wide awake as I am.