You arrive home after a long day. Let’s say you were at work. Maybe you had just finished working your second job. Or, maybe you just got back from having incredible sex with your model girlfriend at her incredible apartment. Either way, you’re just getting home.
You buzz yourself into your apartment (or, for you suburbanites, you approach your front door) and there it is.
It’s got that clear Amazon.com packaging and (this is a bonus for those living in apartments) you assume it can’t be yours.
I haven’t bought anything online in a while, you think. Curious anyway, you stoop down to check. Hey, stranger things have happened.
And sure enough, against all odds and realities, it’s marked for you. It’s of indeterminate size and weight and it because it’s from a site that sells almost literally everything, you have no fucking idea what magical treats are contained within.
Everything from this point out with this feeling is dependent on what is actually in the package. However, the really great feeling is finding it. You had no idea it was coming and even though it might be some logistical thing you need for (insert boring activity) it could also be an iPad or a horse or a five pound bag of Sour Patch kids (this one actually happened to me).
Polar opposite of this feeling?: The moment after opening the package when you realize it’s something like the flash light you ordered three months ago.
scott spinelli 