Inside of a mostly inconspicuous cardboard parcel sits a package waiting to be delivered. The parcel exterior flaunts a pre-printed label that neatly indicates the sender (me) and receiver (them) in sober dot-matrix typeface. I placed the package at the front desk of my office to be picked up.

Over the course of three hours, said package was unhelpfully returned to me no less than four times, including once along with a note reading “Parcel for pick-up”.

The fiasco’s pinnacle featured an impatient Purolator driver and a company-wide loud speaker announcement inviting information regarding the whereabouts of the box. Like a salmon swimming upstream, it had again navigated it’s way back to my desk for a dazzling fifth return.

The moral of the story, kids, is stop being so goddamn courteous.