The SamuraiMarine

Thoughts, Philosophy, Life and Love

The Culligan Man Cometh

This morning I have happened upon a theory.

I think the Culligan Man is stalking me.

This morning, as I went through my usual morning ritual of getting my coffee and reading my email, I heard a loud bang and crash in front of my house.  I looked out in time to see the Culligan truck and the man himself unloading things from the truck and into the house across the street.  Almost as if on queue, he looked across the street at me and waved.  This was a little disturbing to me, not so much that somehow he knew I was watching, but that he waved and acknowledged my nosiness.  I dismissed the incident and finished getting ready for work.

About thirty minutes later, I am making the tortuous seven minute drive to the office where I work, when, seemingly, out of nowhere a truck almost hits me.  To my surprise it is, once again, a Culligan truck.  To make matters worse, it is the same truck and driver that was so willing to give me a good morning wave not a full forty minutes earlier.  I tooted my horn and he, once again, shared with me a smile and a wave.  I had to take a moment to compose myself soas not to share a friendly “one-fingered wave” with him… he was, of course, driving a much larger vehicle that was I.

Upon getting to work, and settling into my daily routine, I pretty much put both incidents out of my mind.  Then, about an hour after getting to work, I was rebuilding one of my employee’s BlackBerries, when I noticed a large truck stop in front of the building in which I work.  It was, once again, the dreaded Culligan man.  He was making a delivery to the office next to mine… or so I am being lead to believe.

I opened the door and stuck my head out to look around, and he smiled and waved at me, again.

Friends… I am under the scrutiny of a faction of some faction of either the FBI, CIA, NSA, TWA, IRA, IRS, PMS, BYOB or something that is operating a super-secret observation unit within the Culligan corporation.


The preceding was written in the spirit of jest.  While based on real events, there is no known connection between Culligan or any government organization that the writer is aware of.  If you are a Culligan employee and read this, please do so with the understanding that the truck in question was in the right place at the right time to be the victim of my humor.   

Samuel Wright
Writer / Father / Listener / Philosopher
I am a starving writer living in the backwater of California, in a place known mostly for Buck Owens and Valley Fever called Bakersfield.

This site is my release. A place for me to talk about things that annoy, please, or excite me.


Happy in my insignificance.


Laid Off, Laid up and thrown out.


  1. Russell

    He had just left my house earlier this morning Sam, I sent him to spy on you. After all, if I don’t keep an eye on you, who will? BTW, Naty asked me to do this!!

  2. Anonymous

    I say we check to see what was in his coffee this morning 🙂

  3. Ah… I see… It is a conspiracy of friend and demons.

    As for the coffee… I only drink fresh ground crap… Sludge, if you ask my wife. I dig that “Marine Coffee.” When you are done drinking it, you can use what is left over to clean the rust off cast iron.

  4. Ang

    THAT’s the only way coffee SHOULD BE DRANK!! 🙂
    Maybe you can use it to clog up your own drain and get that Culligan man to come over so you can interrogate him. Hmmmmm????

    • No… Never let the enemy into your home, unless you plan to dispatch them. I think it is better that I keep an eye on them. Darned… I am starting to sound like Hunter S Thompson, here.


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