Er, it's a good thing you weren't fragile, pacco.A week and four delivery attempts later, two phone calls, and a patient war against our conspiring building administrator has finally yielded fruit. My pacco, containing my books, research from last semester, and most importantly my NIGELLA COOKBOOKS has finally arrived!
Lo, how could it have taken so long?? Well, let me explain... the building supervisor is highly offended by either my name or penmanship, and also by stickers of any kind. Thus every attempt to put our names on the mailbox was ripped down the next day, nay, within a few hours... Likewise, the package deliveryman's notes were roughly scratched down before we had the chance to even see them... Matt, suspecting that the yellow shreds outside our building's gate might be an attempt at communication, and knowing that Italians are both half-hearted and lazy, searched the sidewalk beneath our gate and found, lo...
Not a lot, but enough to get our kind secretary at the Italian school to call and beg that the package be delivered again.
But yea, the package gods were still not appeased by our efforts, and the building administrator still conspired to keep my books parted from me. Finally (after a phonecall with our landlord) he typed up a label that said MATTHEW SARGENT AMELIA-BONEGO. Correct enough, perhaps, but enough to confound the simple postman, who alas, not seeing the little sticky note Matt had placed nearby with the correct names (which had been summarily ripped down prior), went away again.
One final phone call, and a final day of holding vigil at home, skipping class, peeing with the bathroom door open to be sure and hear the buzzer should it ring, the gods smiled, and allowed that the package be delivered.
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