After lying in bed for so much time because the room is spinning, I realized I had ordered a suit by mail for a party I never got to go to.  So yesterday, as part of my recuperation, we began texting and messaging the mailing company – to no avail.  We decided there was no alternative but to track the company down, and found an address in Petach Tikva.  

It’s going to be a dog kennel, I promised Ezi, who served as my driver and the guy holding me up when I lost balance.  But when we finally found it, the place was an enormous warehouse with thousands of bins that seemed almost organized.  And we even found a tiny office in the maze of bins.  The guy with the computer, however, couldn’t find my package on the lists.  Anywhere.

He could have said, sorry, you’ll get your money back from the company next month.  But he rose and walked out.  We waited – maybe half an hour – before he returned to say it probably didn’t arrive yet.  And we left, not really disappointed, because we didn’t really expect the package to be found.  

All this reminded me of the Israeli/Hungarian humorist Ephraim Kishon who did a famous shtik on the Israeli post office generations ago. and even wrote a board game

https://boardgamegeek.com/boardgame/38411/package-has-arrived

On our way home the manager called to tell us that the package had indeed been identified and would be sent to us today. 

And sure enough, it is here.  The name was wrong, the address was wrong, but the shipping number…was right.

And the suit doesn’t fit, and needs to be altered.