9am the posty arrives with a reggy (as he called it) a registered parcel. I noted the name, after I accepted it, and opened it with trepidation.It was from Azhar. I assume my 'Christmas Gift' as it was all wrapped up in Gold paper. 125 mls of Elizabeth Arden 5th Avenue, a CD of some Country singer. A silver plated very heavy trinket box and worse... far worse. A gold (hallmarked) necklace with thick gold chain with my name on it... my name is spelt an unusual way so he must have had it made up. Under the letters in my name there were little gold hearts and flowers.
But... a breakthrough. A return address in London. East London.
It's going to cost me a small fortune to return all this stuff but it has to be done.
Why Me?
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4 comments:
Blimey Trin ... He so didn't get the message did he?
I agree, you are gonna have to return it.
That's definitely one too many steps beyond. You wouldn't have to pay if you refused delivery, it would have gone back to him! Added weirdness that it was registered: allows him to confirm you have received it. Send the lot back or offer to give it to charity on his behalf. You should register it on return too, in case he denies receiving it.
I'm a bit stupid...it came amongst a whole host of parcels including my new glasses and when I saw registered post, I thought it WAS the glasses... infact the glasses were sent ordinary post and when I got in I noticed it was from Azhar... I opened it,weirdly it was like being in some macabre horror film... I was scared to discover what I'd find in there...
(a severed hand, a sacrificial heart, a dead hamster)
I did ring a mate though to sooth my jangled nerves... the necklace was the worst bit.
Damn this is some Divine retribution isn't it?
Certain friends of mine will know exactly what I mean.
Marty Robbins. That brings back memories. Gun Fighter Ballads.
Out in the West Texas town of El Paso
I fell in love with a Mexican girl
Nightime would find me in Rose's Cantina
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