The package was sent to my address but my name wasn't on it - it was for someone else. There was no return address other than a non-descript post box number. 

Now normally I would have simply assumed that the package was intended for a former tenant. But two thoughts were trying to lure me away from this obvious conclusion: 1) I didn't recognize the person's name as a previous tenant and 2) I had just received a promotional postcard from Six Degrees Records that was also addressed correctly, but had someone else's name upon it.

Now, even though the Six Degrees postcard had the right address and wrong name, I knew it was for me. This address only received Six Degrees promotional material only after I voluntarily put myself on their mailing list.

So could the package likewise really was meant for me?

I would sit on the sofa and cradle the package and contemplate this question. Ghengis would roll his eyes and ask, "Why don't you just open it?"

And I would answer, "No that would be wrong. It's a federal offense!" but it really wasn't the real reason. The real reason was that I liked sitting on the sofa, holding the package in my hand, shifting it from left to right trying to discern what it was. I would imagine myself in the first scene of a movie, and I would watch myself in my mind's eye/theatre openning the package and out pops... a dismembered hand! Ewwww! Or many $1000 dollar bills. Or a magical cowboy hat...

I would have eventually opened the package, federal law notwithstanding, but when I stumbled upon this message, I did so all the more sooner.