Last week this intriguing box with tantalizing food references scrawled in delicate cursive was left on the steps of our apartment building. It sat there, unexplained, for 24 hours. At which point we decided that, since there are only two apartments in our building, and neither had staked a claim, it was fair game.
Inside were four delectable cupcakes from Jasmine Rae Bakery and the sweetest note: “Dear tall, tattooed man, I don’t have a valentine this year. Will you be mine?”
It was clear that this was intended for a former roommate. I photographed the box and the note (which wisely included a phone number) and sent these to him. The rest is out of our hands. Good luck, valentine.