2 comments on my sanity Listening to: Train in Vain- The Clash
Mood: WOE
While living abroad it cannnot be disputed that it is extremely pleasant to receive presents from home. This is even more emphatically the case at Christmas time.
I understand, I really do, that the customs officials for any given country must be careful that us dastardly foreigners aren't smuggling in illicit goods (like crack cocaine, silk stockings, pork sausages and the like).
However.
It is slightly disconcerting to know that your Christmas presents have already been opened, especially when a large portion of them do consist of (extremely welcome) Marks and Spencers underwear. Which then get import duty whacked on them.
... Dude what the hell? Seriously, go tax some nice DVDs, or some cigarettes or something! Leave my knickers out of this!
So I got over the shock of having my knickers taxed (though "pants taxer" is my insult of the moment), and as is customary I have been slowly working my way through the various haul of edible goodies that I unwrapped on Christmas day (many thanks to all involved in the sending of the aforementioned edible goodies).
Amongst the selection before me were three small fruit-cakes dispatched by the maternal unit to ease the pain of being forced to eat strawberry spongecake covered in cream instead of proper Christmas cake which feels like you could use it to build houses with.
Cackling in unholy glee, I seized one of these morsels, only to espy that flash of yellow and red, that discreet mostly clear tape, upon which the words; "CUSTOMS- OPENED AND RESEALED". A frown crossed my face.
"What's this?" thought I. "Can it be that the customs officials do not trust the sainted packaging of Marks and Spencers?"
I inspected the package, and indeed discovered that it was impossible to see the fruitcake beneath the wonderous layer of marzipan and icing which covered it. "Aha!" I said to myself, seeing the logic of the situation, "Of course the chaps had to open it! Who knows what vile substances could be concealed beneath that inviting shell."
I unwrapped my piece of cake and slid it carefully from its box. I peeled its paper case from its moist and sultana-full bottom.
IMAGINE MY SHOCK, MY HORROR, MY OUTRAGE!
They had taken a bite-sized portion from my poor defenseless cake, and carefully rewrapped it, resealed it and replaced it.
:( Woe.
December 27, 2006 at 11:33 p.m.