Something Squirrelly this Way Comes

Friday afternoon the coworkers and I are discussing random things, as per usual. Today's conversation covers the Olympic Bomber (in Atlanta), Unabomber and how, if you google your name and the word 'dies' or 'died' you'll supposedly find out how you'll die. One coworker (ruff) dies from an exploding wedding cake.

Then I get this phone call from a DC number. It's a guy from FedEx saying he has a package for me. I'm at a loss as I'm at work and, as far as I know, nobody knows my work address. Only a select few know my phone number at work.

"What?" I ask the guy.
"This is G, right?"
"Yeeeaaahhhhhh....."
"I just need to know your suite number so I can deliver your package."
"Suite number? I don't have one. I have a room number."
"Just need your suite number so my driver can deliver your package. You're at this street address?"
"Yeah but it's a secure building."
"We have a DOD badge, he can get by."
"Okay. I'm in room ###."
"What floor?"
"Second floor."
"Okay, he'll be right there."

I turn to my coworkers. "That's so weird. Guy from FedEx just said he has a package for me. He knew my name, the address and my number. What the hell? I haven't given this address to anyone."
"Open it Outside." Herbert said
"Let me know when you're opening it, I don't want to be here." Ruff said.
"What? That's bizarre. Did you order something?" Phish said.

Then my mind starts to ponder. I work for a federal agency (sorta) and my name could feasibly be tied to this organization and found on the internet. Is it some irate and/or disturbed person sending me their dead cat and some pesticide that they think killed it? The cat being sent for testing, etc. Please know this has Never happened but I'm a tad paranoid and have an active imagination. Not the best combo when it comes to worst case scenario thinking.

FedEx guy gets past all security measures and walks into the room. It's a big box (18" wide x 18" long X 12" deep) which incites Herbert & Ruff to say, "That's a big bomb, G. Better take it outside so the building doesn't disintegrate with you when it goes."

I sign and take the box, it's freakishly light which eases my mind of the dead cat scenario. At my desk, Herbert and Ruff go to the middle of the room (by the door, mind you) and Phish is off picking up our lunches (four of us had all ordered from the same place). Address label says Diana from some balloons company in Oklahoma. I think Who's Diana? Oklahoma? I don't know anyone in Oklahoma unless someone moved and didn't tell me which would be weird because if they didn't tell me, how do they know my address and phone number at a job I started less than a year ago???

I carefully open the box, fairly certain that it's balloons but still at a loss who they're from. It's a big Mylar balloon filled with helium that says Happy 30! and then eight smaller air filled balloons tied to a stick, a smaller helium balloon that says Happy Birthday also tied to the stick. Stick is being held by a cute little bear. Bear is also holding a bag of candy. No note telling me who they're from. I figure my folks because it's a cute arrangement. I figure if my brother sent me something it'd be a whole passel of black balloons saying Over the Hill or some such thing. Then I spy a little bottle with a piece of paper rolled up in it. I uncork and read the note. "I told you I'd get you back. T." Awwwwwww is my first reaction.

T, put on brother goggles and don't read the next bit :)

Coworkers are all like "Who is it from??"
"My brother. Isn't he a sweetie??" Which, I'm sure would make T's toes curl if he heard me say that. Then he'd use that as blackmail against me. He's squirrelly like that.

T, you can remove goggles now.

Then I remember how, last week, T was randomly trying to figure out where the new building is (company is moving to a new building in several months) and asked where my current building is, "to see how far apart they are". Then I recall how my mom was asking me what the name of my company is, not just the acronym but the actual name.

See, nearly two years ago on T's 30th birthday, his wife and I conspired to have balloons arrive at his place of work. The subsequent serenading of Happy birthday by coworkers was out of my control, although much appreciated :) T sent the balloons to my work so that I'd have to take them on the metro and then the bus. His plan was foiled though because my folks & nephew picked me up on Friday.

And yes, I did call him and explain the whole bomb/dead cat thoughts. Rather I called, left a message saying "got the balloons, give me a call when you're back in your office." He called me back later and I explained the thought processes the office helped incite. He laughed.