Sunday, February 14, 2016

Dear Marcus

I know things move at a glacial pace here at The Wood of Kings. But in my defence I've been waiting to have some good things to post. And I think you'll enjoy this. There's a bit of reading but it's fun.

Quick backstory. I had to park in a parking building and I couldn't find a damn ticket machine anywhere. Believe me I looked. There was a boot but it contained nothing more than some broken chairs and some beer bottles. So I wrote a note and left it inside my windscreen explaining and I included my phone number. Ring me and I'll come and pay.

When I returned to my car I discovered a ticket for $65 waiting for me. I had been there no longer than 45 mins. Strangely enough the only real way to correspond with NZCMS was by mail. How quaint.

So I embarked on a series of letters with Marcus Baker at NZCMS. I decided to start relatively normal. Stating my case and pleading for leniency. I does start pretty dull but stick with us as things progressed I got more and more insane. As you'll see...

So far so grovelling. His reply was beautifully robotic.

However he had made his first mistake. He had engaged with me. Like a commuter who had accidentally made eye contact with a raving hobo on the street. 

Then something great happened Sally also decided to join the correspondence. She's a little firecracker this one. But she didn't figure on my growing friendship with Marcus. 

So I started replying to Sally as well...

Also it was festive season so I decided to send Marcus a card...

Marcus responded in true impersonal form.

The poor chap seems a bit confused I decided to help him out and, in the process, try to further cement our growing personal bond. 

I think this must've struck a nerve with Marcus because he suddenly seemed very keen to shut down our conversation. 

Not so fast mate. So I sent him a letter by registered mail. He was going to have to open this one. 

And I decided to add a personal drawing. 

NZ Post, bless them, tried multiple times to deliver this bundle of joy but sadly it was eventually returned to me. Marcus is a lot more cunning than I thought. A worthy adversary. 

The company doesn't exist. Well played Mr Baker, well played. So I simply popped it in another envelope and sent it away. 

I'm sad to report I haven't heard anything from Marcus since. No doubt pocketed the cash and taken that little hellcat Sally for a passion-filled night on the town. I'll miss him. I guess I just have have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. But still, the place you live in is just that much more drab and empty that they're gone.

I guess I just miss my friend.