I am, it’s fair to say, a cynical old grump.
Carole, on the other hand, is Polly-Anna. She sees the upside in everything. She’s annoyingly perky at ungodly hours of the morning and wants to do what she can to help others.
With that in mind, she donated some toys to the Salvation Army Big Toy appeal via The Entertainer’s online shop. It’s what she does. She’s a sucker for a cause is Carole. She has, luckily, not become one of those people who is constantly posting “Help [insert name] by signing this petition” on Facebook every couple of hours. But I suspect it’s only a matter of time.
Anyway, she donated toys. You’d think that’s a customer-less transaction. Nothing should arrive here. After all, the toys should go to the Salvation Army and they should hand them out from there.
Carole received a parcel today, from The Entertainer.
It’s fair to say when it arrived it didn’t weigh anything. So from the get go it had interesting written all over it. It weighed, I’d say, about as much as an empty box of the specific size that had been sent.
Carole must have received a notification that a parcel had been delivered as she text me almost immediately after its arrival.
“I think they’ve sent me the toys…” she said, baffled.
I explained that it was a very, very light box. It could not contain anything. Definitely not anything toy-like.
She had me open it.
A packing slip
Three leaflets for the Big Toy Appeal thing
Three of those bags of air that are used as packing material
That was it.
Someone, in a warehouse somewhere, had made up a box to send out. Without questioning what a fricking batshit crazy thing they were doing. And then just sent it. A man in a van had then delivered that package to our house.
And, I bet, as he did it he thought, “This is a very, very light box…”