Amazonian Mistake

The other day, I received one of those pesky cards left by the postman/woman/person saying that I had a package that could be picked up after April 17. I say that the card is pesky, but it's only pesky in certain circumstances. Sometimes you realize that the card is leading you to that fabulous pair of shoes that you found online for half price. But other times it's a fruit cake from your great-aunt that you can't even re-gift unless someone in your office needs a door stop. Today, that card was definitely pesky.

I went to the post office to pick up my mystery package that was too important to be left at my door, and was, as usual, cut in line by someone. The cutter was an old man with hearing aids, and I chose to believe that the hearing aids somehow indicated that the man has not only partly lost his ability to hear, but also to realize that someone was there before him. I, as cut-ee, was very proud of myself for being the bigger person.

I received my package and could barely wait to get into my poorly parked car to see what Santa Mail had brought me.... only to open the package and find a size L/XL pair of what I believe are UFC approved fighting armpads. I didn't even know those guys wore armpads. You'd think that with the head bashing and embracing, which is more than a little homo-erotic, that the fighters would have more on their worry list than rug burn on their elbows.

Needless to say, I had not ordered them, and am only assuming that Amazon made a mistake, if, in fact the mystery fighting equipment was sent from Amazon.... which is still my favorite online shopping site even though they were a bit off their game today. I hope there's not someone out there who has burned elbows because I have their stuff. I feel like finding out the intended recipient and sending them some aloe vera gel. Or perhaps a fruit cake.