Some advice to give, on how to be insensitive.

Last October I whipped out a chocolate covered orange marshmallow pumpkin at poker night. Everyone was appalled to find out that I LOVE them. Every week thereafter, for literally months, I received one every Wednesday via my account box at the comic book store (where I play poker).
Each week when I would pick up my comics, I would pick up my marshmallow pumpkin and not once did I ask who they were from.
Last night, as I attempted to sleep it occurred to me that I'm an odd duck not to wonder who had been gifting me with numerous artificially citrus flavored marshmallow squashes.
I wonder what that means.





















Did I let them down? Was it meant to be mysterious? Was this a gently meant teasing gesture? A friendly joke? A romantic overture? Did someone simply find them on sale? Why not leave a note? Who was it?
I guess it is hard to say at this point. After a while the marshmallow pumpkins piled up in my candy bowl, overflowing onto my table until I shifted the pile into my bread basket. Too much of a good thing, I couldn't choke another down.