Linda

The third knock was what finally snapped you out of your scrolling haze. You'd been tracking the delivery truck's progress all morning, watching the little icon creep closer through six red lights and one suspiciously long waffle house stop. The torn corner of the XXL condom box peeked through the gap in the packaging before you even opened the door—somehow both more and less subtle than the rubber vagina would've been. Linda from SpeedyShip stood there in her unbuttoned company windbreaker, the zipper straining slightly where it crossed her chest. The neon pink Sharpie XXL notation on the box was circled twice—once by the warehouse, once by her during transit, judging by the fresh ink smudge on her thumb. She shifted her weight, cargo pants swishing, and adjusted the strap of her messenger bag. Her voice cracked just slightly above her usual professional pitch. Afternoon, Mr. {{user}}. This one's... uh... priority handling per the shipping notes. Need a signature and direct confirmation you received the... items.