It came in a Priority Mail envelope. The sleek, red, white and blue packaging was exactly what I was expecting. Only it wasn’t.
I watched my wife drop the envelope in the mail yesterday and I thought I had more time to figure out what was in it. I was wrong.
The enveloped arrived a day sooner than I expected. I let it sit on the corner of my coffee-stained desk for several hours before I finally touched it. I didn’t have a clue what was inside, and I had a feeling I was going to lose the bet this year.
My name is Frank, and every year, my wife buys me the latest gizmo for my birthday to help in my line of work. I have until the gift arrives to figure out what it is or I owe her a dinner at our favorite restaurant. Now, don’t go telling her this, and I’m trusting you not to say anything, but I always make reservations there a few weeks in advance. She’s the greatest gift I could ever ask for, and even if there’s a lump coal in that envelope this year, I’d still be the luckiest guy on the planet.
So there is sat, next to an 8-inch stack of paperwork I’ll get around to someday and slightly behind a scratched and battered calculator I bought new in 1988. The envelope seemed to stare back at me, tempting me to peek inside. Before admitting defeat and opening the seal, I checked for your suggestions on what it might be.
I already have a new phone from my last birthday, so that’s probably not it Joan. That would have been my guess too if I didn’t already have one, and it was a great suggestion. Thank you.
I still have a flash drive sealed in its original packaging from several months ago, so that’s probably not it either Jonn. I bought it to keep a backup of my files just in case something unexpected happens to the office. It’ll probably end up staying there too until something finally does happen. It might be too late at that point, but at least I wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.
A tablet PC would be nice, David, but given what happened to my last one, I don’t think it’s a good investment. I was out on a case this past summer when I showed a photo of a guy on my tablet to a few patrons of a drinking establishment. The guy had skipped town after missing his court date, and I was hired to identify his whereabouts. His friends at the establishment weren’t particularly enthusiastic to help on the case and expressed that opinion when one of them smashed my tablet on his own bald head. I took that as my queue to leave – and bill the client for my loss.
I finally accepted that I was stumped and opened the Priority Mail envelope. The item inside turned out to be a silver and black smartwatch. I had read about these gadgets in the news, but I didn’t really consider buying one. I thought it would take a lifetime to figure out how to use it, but my wife proved me wrong when she had it up and running within five minutes later that evening.
She also sent a card along with the watch containing a simple message:
“To my very own Dick Tracy. You owe me dinner. With love, Trish.”
I certainly do.