ribsinbacon found it, couldn't figure out to whom it belonged, and left it for me and RJ to sort out.
Here's a scan of the address label:
Now... we get a lot of mail for the previous tenants, but I'm pretty sure this person has never lived at this address. Still, if Mr. (or Ms., I guess) McWiggins wants to collect his/her Trojan® Mint Tingle™ Brand Latex Condom, he/she is welcome to it.
There's also a letter in the package (yeah, so I opened a package addressed to a nonexistent person. Oops.) which discusses just how great Trojan® Brand Latex Condoms are. It contains the following sentence:
If you did not request this sample, please notify us in writing at the below address and we will ensure a sample cannot be requested in your name in the future[.]I am amused -- not surprised, but amused -- that they need to state this. What does surprise me is that the free sample was obviously requested online for our address, and that Trojan's software does not filter out dubious names. Back when I was in school, one of my first programming assignments was to check a mailing list against a database of words that could constitute fake or joke names, and flag the ones that might not belong to real people. We were led to believe that this is a common feature in software that generates mass mailings, and I know for a fact that some of the banks I work with do this. Funny that this one got through -- I'm sure that everybody that offers free condoms gets constantly bombarded by erroneous requests.
Anyway, there was going to be a serious entry this evening. Poignant, articulate, enlightening -- everything I like to pretend that you've come to expect from my journal. Unfortunately, I just can't do it. The address on the package derailed that particular train of thought, and now I can't even stop talking in falsetto.
I'm not sure what that has to do with anything.