I was very excited to receive a Valentine’s card in the post today. However, on closer inspection, it turned out that what at a glance were kisses were in fact the footprints of a pigeon, and the message read not “I love you, Dan”, but “I no where yoo liv”.
Unfortunately the postmark is smudged, which makes it tricky to figure out who sent it.
I thought about it for a moment and I realised it mustn’t be from a pigeon at all. Although signed “Derrick”, the real-life Derrick The Evil Pigeon is far too clever and would simply have sent one of his minions to take me out. And note the use of a First Class stamp. Actual pigeons operate their own postal service, a very fast and efficient postal service. And in any case you can’t lick a stamp with a beak.
I decided it must be from a girl. The capital letters are pleasantly curved, and the postcard is prettily decorated with pigeon paws.
But sadly she is not a girl who in love with me. A true admirer would not have sent me a card on Valentine’s Day with an photograph of a mangy pigeon.
It is certainly someone who knows me well. Look at the tone of the message. It’s terrifying, isn’t it? How does the author know I would not instantly panic and call the police, or better still, pest control? She clearly believes that I would consider this sort of thing to be a hilarious prank.
Significantly, she includes the line “Honor Oak Park” in the address. This is a clanger. An ordinary fan, diligently looking up my address, would have correctly found that SE23 is the postal district of Forest Hill, not Honor Oak Park. A resident would know this too. The sender must therefore be a regular user of Honor Oak Park station, but crucially, not a local. So it’s someone who comes round my place a lot.
Two other things. The person who sent this has far, far too much time on her hands. And she’s old enough to remember a era when people wrote things on paper, and put them in the post.