This weekend, walking down Main Street with a friend, we came across a very cute shiny, red, shoebox-size, heart-shaped box, shielded by a open clear-plastic umbrella, which in turn was festooned with hearts cut from red construction paper. On the hearts were written notes, such as, "A gift for you", "open me!" and "a crappy gift from a stranger." It was a bright, happy, note of colour on an otherwise grey and damp street.
I was quite curious but my friend was not: she was more distracted by the nearby jars of knitted olives-with-pimentos in the window of the wool shop (also an interesting curiousity, no doubt. Guess the number of olives and you can win a jar full!)
I know you're all itching to know what was inside as I was, but I'm sorry to say I didn't open it, for a number of reasons: (a) the friend was on a shopping mission and had no time for random red boxes (b) given the 'crappy gift' reference I was a little afraid of what I might find inside the box, and (c) the whole package was so pretty that I didn't really want to rip into it and spoil the presentation. Really. I mean, it was all tied up with ribbons and bows, so there was no sneaking a peak before leaving it for the next passerby.
By the way, there was a coffeeshop across the street. I suspect the Stranger, finding him or herself desperate for entertainment due to the TV writer's strike, and had decided to create an experimental art project over Sunday coffee.
Because who needs reality TV when you can put a shiny red box on the street and watch that instead?
Anyway, that gift remained unopened until the right recipient came along. Hopefully someone who was having a really bad Sunday, but that wasn't me, 'cause my Sunday was pretty good.
Gift enough, right?
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