I am going insane here, people.
I was walking up to my private front patio when I saw a large box.
"Oh!" I said. "My extra large Bosu ball must have come from Amazon!"
(I am exchanging out my work chair for a big blue ball.)
But when I got into my patio, I noticed that there were two boxes. And the one with the familiar "Amazon" packing tape was much smaller.
I picked up the large box. It was very light. I looked at the label.
It was for me. And it was from Riedel Crystal. A manufacturer of crystal that I was very familiar with from my days back working at Martha Stewart Living.
The thing is, though... I didn't recall having ordered anything from them.
I brought the boxes inside, and opened the large one. The packing slip indicated that I was the receiver... And the invoice inside didn't indicate a price or a purchaser,
I pulled the glass - inside of it's safety container wrapped in bubble - out. It was a red wine glass. But not just any red wine glass...
A Riedel Superleggero Burgundy Grand Cru.
This is a serious fucking wine glass, people. Made by hand. For people who are serious about their wine.
There was no card in the box... Either the large shipping one or the inside container.
"WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!"
Who would send me such a lovely gift?????
Because of my job long ago at Martha Stewart, I know all about what it takes to make one of these things. Sommeliers use them. People who are serious about their wine. I've had a few over the years - of the non Sommelier "cheaper" ones - but never dared buy one of the serious ones.
They're for responsible adults who wear white clothing, own white furniture, don't make messes, and don't break things easily. Adults who have grace.
Not adults who live in jeans and heels and t-shirts... And thank "Sweet Baby Jesus on Christmas Morning" every day for the gloriousness that is the Taco Bell app.
A quick blast to my family and close friends - who all have my home address - revealed that not one of them had sent it to me.
"Who would send you one wine glass?" two friends and my sister-in-law asked.
"Well," I explained, "This is a very lovely and generous gift. It's not cheap. And I live alone. So it's someone who knows I like to drink French red wines in my house alone, and really wants me to enjoy the experience."
That's when I realized... This is a little creepy.
Someone has my home address.
They know I drink red wine.
They know I live alone.
"Maybe you ordered it while drunk?" two people asked.
"I would say that is a possibility," I said. "But I've never been so drunk that I've forgotten something, blacked out or passed out. I always remember what happened when a got tipsy. I'm too paranoid to get too drunk."
But I erred on the side of, "Maybe it's possible I ordered them while asleep?" A review of my credit card and bank account statements proved, however, that no purchases were made that I didn't recognize.
So I am at a loss. And a little freaked out.
But it's all good... Truly. Because I lift heavy weights and wear stilettos. So I am pretty sure I can take the person if they are a creeper.
Tomorrow I shall call the manufacturer and find out if they can tell me who sent it.