brown paper package

I love online relationships.  I have met amazing friends through blogging, and even during my blogging sabbatical we kept up on Facebook, Twitter, and email. In fact, through fun and shenanigans in comment sections, I have become Facebook friends with friends of friends and some of my blogging friends have become Facebook friends with my other friends. Are you still with me? I’m not sure if I followed that and I’m the one who wrote it.

During these years online, I’ve never met anyone who turned out to be living in his mother’s basement dressed in tighty whities, as far as I can tell. But I did once mail panties to someone I met online.

Me: “If your husband gets home from work before you, does he open mail that’s addressed to you?”

Her: “Not generally. Why?”

Me: “What if it’s a plain brown package?”

Her: “Why?”

Me:   “If he gets home before you in the next day or two, he will see a plain brown package that’s addressed to you.”

Her: “Yeah . . . ”

Me: “If he opens it, there will be a pair of panties inside.”

Her: “What? Why? What?”

Me: “Remember that time you went on a rant about said you didn’t care for panty lines? And I told you that there is such a thing as panties that aren’t thongs that don’t show lines? And I asked if you noticed whether I had panty lines that time we met in person? And you said you didn’t look at my butt that closely?”

Her: “Um. Yeah . . . ”

Me:   “I mailed you a pair of those panties to prove that I’m right.”

Her: “Um. Okaaaay.”

Me: “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Not “those” panties.  I mailed you new ones. With tags and everything.”

Her: “Thank God.”

Me: “So, if your husband opens the package and finds the panties, just tell him they were from someone you met on the Internet.”

Her: “Oh, that will help.”

Me: “Right? I think of everything. I’m such a good friend.”

Her: “Uh huh.”

What’s the weirdest thing you received in the mail? (Bonus points if it was from an Internet friend.)

10 comments on “Panties Mailed in Plain Brown Packages”

    • I may or may not also have a jelly bean pooping reindeer. I may or may not have had to buy it because a jelly bean pooping reindeer is awesome and no one mailed one to me.

  1. OK, this was well-meaning but hilarious. Keep in mind a) I am very allergic to strawberries (but who would know that?) and b) this was a customer who despite husband and kids, was more familiar with, uh, my personal space than I prefer. I mean, I might LOVE Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth in all her hawtness, but really, I am not gonna invite myself over to her place…more than once…and mail her a box of chocolate dipped strawberries, if even they DO NOT give her hives.
    OK, my story: a customer who had become a fan and given me lots of money and visited a couple of times (kinda harrowing visits, with a TERRIBLE 2 year old untethered in a pottery studio) plus the whole grab-Gary-and hug-and -kiss him (which I don’t even let my mother do). But then, on Valentine’s Day the post office clerk is handing me a box across the counter:

    clerk: GOD, what is in here, it is dripping BLOOD!
    me: pfft, damned if I know…who from…OH GOD, a deranged customer cut something off JUST FOR ME! or sacrificed something? Or killed….?
    clerk: But it smells…good!
    me: (box had become moistly unsealed, so peeked in) Oh. Chocolate covered strawberries. Just thrown in a box. I think they, er, meant well….

    SO, there was a red dripping mess of hives, I mean strawberries, which was pretty quickly dumped. it is the, um, thought that counts…

  2. My dad used to mail order turkeys every year. We’d get so excited to pick up our annual package of poults from the post office! Nowadays, I’d prefer panties…or chocolate covered strawberries for that matter.

  3. Live lobsters but they came in a plain brown… crate. And I immediately made them my pets (not knowing the future plans my Dad had for steaming them alive.) They screamed, I screamed and then my Mom screamed. sigh.
    PS nice new blog header Mrs.

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