So one of the designated Peanut Gallery participants in last year's SurvivorBlog competition was Comabound, a woman (presumably) who has gone through great lengths to keep her site public, while keeping her identity private. When I say great lengths I mean the "Enemy of the State"-esque 'if you want to pass something to me give it to suchandsuch and they'll leave it at the designated drop-off point' kind of privacy.

Anyhow, I helped her work out a way to send gifts from Amazon anonymously (by buying herself a gift certificate, then creating a fictitious identiy to redeem the gift certificate and send gifts to people without having to divulge a real name or address) but I guess she decided to go dirtworld instead. My doorbell rang today (which almost never happens because I live inside an apartment building and people have to ring the outside buzzer to get in) and by the time I opened the door, there was nobody there and a package fell from where it was propped against the door. On it was my address, a return address that just said 'Comabound', and $3 in postage that didn't have a postmark on it.

I grokked all this in about 5 seconds, and she (or whoever acted as her proxy) couldn't have been more than one floor down by stair. I almost chased her and blew her cover, but something stopped me. Instead I got my camera and hung outside the window, waitng for her to come out the front door of the building.

The only person who came out was my mailman, which is weird because in the 5 years I've lived here, he's never actually brought a package to my door instead of leaving it downstairs, and of course the package has no postmark.

I guess the only logical conclusion is that Comabound is actually my mailman! Unless she waited for him to come and asked him to drop off the package...

Well, however you safeguard your identity, Coma, I thank you for your Christmas present. Now who do I go through to get something to you?

And so Comabound's secret identity is safe, for one more day...