The Time We Shared, it was precious to me...

I was checking the Amazon.com shipping status of a Netbook I ordered on Friday. I was home till about 2:30pm because I had a conference call scheduled. After the call, checked the shipping status which said "delivered", even though it hadn't been.

Went off to the gym, came back: no mail, no packages.

Around 5:30pm, I get a buzz at the door.

I click TALK: "Who is it?"

No response. Just more buzzing.

TALK: "Hello...?"

No response. More buzz, buzz, buzzing.

I try the DOOR button to let them through.

JUST MORE BUZZING.

Grab my keys, head down.

Big surprise—

—it's my psychotic Russian Super. With my Amazon package. "I sign," he says.

Okay, what the fuck.

1) I was probably home when it arrived, so he didn't have to sign for it.
2) Incessant buzzing is his method of summoning me downstairs?

As always, there is no point arguing with a psychopath.

"Thanks so much," I tell him as I take the package.
(Thought, not spoken: "Don't kill me in my sleep.")

HAVE A FUN, SAFE GAY PRIDE WEEKEND, EVERYBODY!!!