WANTED: A Box For The Wicked
No rest for the wicked. Put another way, tomorrow I head off on another trip. Wheels up at 6:20 AM. Thinking that didn't sound fun at all, I walked glumly in my door this afternoon to find . . . a box.
Once upon a time, to see a box on your stoop meant that a friend or loved one had sent you a welcome present. Today, we buy so much stuff online that a box might be toilet paper or dog food. Well, not quite. But it is going that way.
I brought the box inside. Too small for toilet paper, too large for toilet parts, addressed by a person, not a company. Hmm, promising! "J____ F____" Who's that? Then I realized, my gifter is the famous Jessy F!
Poured myself a beer, sat down with my box, and was instantly happy. The nicest "dear John" card and letter I've ever received, not even an unwanted engagement ring enclosed. A roll of cheese preservation medium - how did? you know of the shame that breeds in my refrigerator? A bottle and a magazine that made me feel just returned from a foodie stroll in Silverlake, or Santa Monica maybe. Best of all, A Book.
I love books, and I'm about to go spend three nights slumped in a hotel, so "Best Food Writing 2012" is exactly what the doctor ordered. Thanks, Jessy! Your gift will be tucked carefully into my shoulder bag to take a little trip to the City By The Bay.
Come to think of it, I have to get my gift box put together. Somewhere out there, someone is wondering if her box will come . . . patience, patience.