Packages

It was hot outside, and I was sitting on my porch drinking a lovely glass of A&W Root Beer over ice in one of my many plastic cups from “Rudy’s”. It was the middle of the afternoon in the lull of the day and as car after car drove down the street one veered off and turned onto mine. It was one of those big black UPS truck’s. Of course I didn’t have to wait to see if it would stop in front of my house, or wait to watch the driver grab the package, then look up to my apartment, then look at the package again and start his brisk walk up my stairs. I knew exactly what was going to happen. Because it happened every day.
“Package for ____________” (insert name of anonymous roommate).
“Ya he lives here,” I said.
It happened every day. Sometimes more. And always to that one specific roommate. Thankfully he doesn’t live with me anymore, but that part of the story comes later. Anyways, it happened everyday. Doorbell would ring. Package delivered. Roommate collects. The first week I thought it was interesting, nothing more. The second week I thought it was peculiar. After a month I decided something was downright strange, and after two months I decided I needed to start looking into it.
It wasn’t just the amount of packages either. It was the fact that they were always the same size: a little longer than a shoebox, but thinner. You tell me what goes in a box that size. I’m sure you could think of a few things because I could. Try A bottle of wine? It was definitely my first guess. Only one problem. “Packages” never drank and never once in our house or his room in our time living together did I see a bottle of wine, or really any bottle the size of the boxes that were delivered to our house every day.
As you may have just noticed, since I can’t use his name for confidentiality, this nameless roommate of mine will be from here on out referred to as “Packages”. Why choose the name “Packages?” Because he got lots of packages and it’s sounds kind of like Patches which is a good cats name.
So what else could it be(besides wine, because it obviously wasn’t that)? It could be mechanical robot arms. Or just lots of different robot pieces all sent at different times, because he was trying to make a robot. It could be small swords, like the one in The Princess Bride that Buttercup almost stabs herself with (also called knives). There was also the possibility that he was ordering Footlong’s from Subway and had gotten UPS to deliver them. Maybe he was trying lose weight? But there was a Subway literally only 2 minutes from our house. Nothing made sense. Nothing.
Then one day an idea hit me. Bombs. Surely no. But… Maybe. Perhaps he was a bomb maker. After all, he did always send the packages back to wherever they came from. It was the best, most feasible idea I’d had, so I decided to do a little investigating. Somehow, bombs had to be brought into our conversation. But I had to do it in such a way, that it wouldn’t seem like I had done it, or thought about it before.
After some serious contemplation, I decided to use the movie Star Wars. You’ll see what I mean. Here’s our verbatim conversation(I recorded it):
“hey Packages.”
“hey Ben.”
“hey, you know I’ve been thinking, we should watch Star Wars soon.”
“omg yes, I love Star Wars!”
“ya crazy, me too! I always liked it because of those two droids that made every episode. What were their names again?”
“C3pio and R2D2?
“ya ya C3pio, only I always thought it would be funny if his name was C4pio, because that’s the…”
“Explosive.”
“ya.”
Something in his eyes when he said “Explosive” made me know I was onto something, and that I had to further investigate this. So I waited for my chance. My golden chance to actually open one of “Packages’s” packages and find out if he really was a bomb distribution center as my worst fears believed. Three weeks I waited for just the moment. One has to be careful about these things because “Packages” was nearly always home, and when he left, one never knew how long it would be for. And since I didn’t feel safe letting my other roommates know what I was up to, I had to sneak around them as well. It was just too sensitive. But one day the perfect opportunity presented itself. I was once again sitting on my porch drinking a nice glass of A&W Root Beer. I sure do love that stuff. Anyways, Packages and I were the only ones home.
The UPS truck had already delivered today and all of a sudden “Packages” came outside with the mysterious package in hand, ready to send it off to wherever and whomever. As he stepped outside he realized that the had forgotten something, so he set the package down by the door and went back inside. When he came back outside he was on his cell phone. I could tell he was talking to his mom because he was yelling at her. He always yelled at his mom, another factor that supported my bomb distribution theory. As he came out he turned and started walking to his car, still yelling at his mom, but completely forgetting the most important thing… The Package!!! Here was my golden chance! As “Packages” drove off (still yelling) I knew I had this package right where I wanted it, and was about to discover the secret behind what had been driving me crazy for weeks!
When his car finally disappeared I grabbed it with both hands, took it to my room and closed the door behind me. My adrenaline was flowing. I had to move fast, but I knew i would have to reseal the package and put it back after I opened it. Luckily I had borrowed some packaging tape from my neighbor and was fully prepared for the situation.
Sitting on my bed, I cut the tape with my knife, opened the box, and what did I find? Not a bomb. Not mechanical Robot Arms. Not even a half eaten Subway Sandwich. I laughed when I saw it… Out of relief, and confusion. Because the box contained two items: A two liter bottle of already opened A&W Root Beer, and a note. “well, this is strange, I didn’t know “Packages” even liked Root Beer,” I said to myself. Then I took the note and read these words. “Steve, Mind Control Formula seems to be working. The bomb bit worked perfectly. Thank you so much, and keep it coming.
P.S. C4pio, Brilliant! TTYL!!!!!!
P.P.S. Tell Mom I said Hi.”
Fear swept through me like a forest fire. I heard footsteps. “Packages” had come back! (Step, step, step) No time. The door opened and we looked each other in the eyes.

Thank you for reading this highly entertaining story, because of course that’s all it is. Don’t worry, I don’t and have never had any roommates like “Packages”! Hahaha!