Mrs. Kaye? Is that really you?

You sure don’t look like a Mrs. Kaye...

So I got a delivery from eBay yesterday. Not ususual since Scott and I both use my eBay account and we get lots and lots of packages. I do so enjoy packages. Except when they ask for extra duty. What the hell is up with that? I paid for the item, I paid for the shipping, now I have to pay for the delivery git to put it in my hands? What an effing cash grab. Anyway, yesterday I got a package (no duty... woohoo).

When I opened the door, the delivery guy said (looking around and behind me) "Mrs. Kaye, please". Ummm... that’d be me, I replied. I grabbed the box and signed the thingie. Afterwards he started to say that he needed to ask for my name because it’s not the same as the one on the box... then he looked down and saw that the signature was the same as on the box. I grabbed my booty (the package, not my ass) and shut the door. Huh? Minutes later, I realized that he didn’t immediately think I was Karen Kaye. Granted with my errr... complexion I look more like a Sha’niqaa Jackson but this is the ’burbs, man. I answered my own front door but nearly had to convince the postal worker of who I was. After all, I could have been the maid, right? Hey, who could blame him. It’s not like this is Canada or anything. Hmph.

kxx