No longer at this address

You may remember this post regarding Tom (former tenant of our house), his mail, and me (defying all logic).

In February of this year, I signed for and accepted some mail for Tom. All the while thinking . . . well, that remains a matter of debate. The thinking part.

Turns out the mail was actually money and I had to explain to Tom that I not only had his money, but I knew it was money 'cause despite it being addressed to him - I opened it. Yeah, I know, defying all logic.

So, we've been living here in Tom's former house for about 8 months now. The other day we received a letter addressed to a company with all capital letters. I think to myself . . . hmmmm, these capital letters look familiar and I think this may be Tom's business. Proudly, I take this letter down to Tom's office (which is conveniently located about a block from my door).

At the front desk is a young guy, but it's not Tom. I hand him the letter and tell him I believe this is for Tom. He looks at it and says "No, this is not our address". I respond "Yeah, I know, it's MY address, but we live where Tom used to live and sometimes we get his mail.". He looks at it again and says "No, this is not our company." To which I say "Okay, do you know where this company is?"

"No."

So, I leave with letter in hand, go home and circle the address, write on the front - in Dutch - No longer at this address, and clip it to our mailbox. After a couple of days the letter is still there so I surmise that the Belgie Post ain't like the USPS and they ain't pickin' up this letter to the company in all CAPS.

At this point I bring the letter in and not wanting to just throw it in the trash, I open it.

OMG. It's a credit card statement. For none other than TOM. I immediately Google the company in all CAPS and guess who pops up as company owner? Oh, you are good. That's right. TOM. Apparently Tom forgot to tell his employees that the company in all CAPS is a subsidiary of the company they work for.

Frankly, at this point I cannot believe I have once again opened Tom's mail and right there in black and white is his Jaguar payment, a flight reservation on AirFrance . . .

I picture myself going down to Tom's office and saying "Tom, you're not going to believe this, but . . ." I stop right there and say aloud "Looks like he's never gettin' this."

Which reminds me of . . .

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