As a joke, I set my Facebook status to "Alan Lynn is going to start a pancakes by mail service." but after thinking about it, I thought it would be funnier if I actually did it.
I asked my friend Kevin Chang if he wanted some pancakes by mail. It took a little while to convince him, but we eventually worked out a deal. Kevin wanted me to ship it in a box to make sure the pancakes arrived in one piece, but I insisted it be shipped in an envelope. Our compromise was as follows:
When the pancakes arrive, Kevin rates their integrity on a scale of 0 to 10. If his rating is below a 5, then he doesn't pay anything for the pancakes. Otherwise, he pays for ingredients + shipping.
I started my pancake making at 3, with a deadline at 5, when the post office closed.
Ingredients out.
Probably should have used a bigger bowl.
Looks delicious...
Well stirred.
First pancake.
Tasting one. Pajamas are awesome.
I was trying to spread the batter thinner with the spatula or something... It didn't work.
It doesn't look any more appetizing on a plate.
I tried it anyway. It was gross.
The bounty.
Bagged. I thought I had bigger plastic bags, but I didn't. The pancakes were still a little warm when I put them in, so hopefully they won't get soggy.
The quantity may be on the small side.
I was done making pancakes by 4:20, and ready to leave by 4:40, leaving me just enough time to get to the post office before it closed. I arrived at the post office on bike with 10 minutes to spare. I put the pancakes in an envelope, and got some stamps and envelopes I also needed. Sadly, the lady behind the counter either didn't notice or didn't react to the "PANCAKES - HANDLE WITH CARE" I had written on the package.
When I got back I noticed I had the stamps I had purchased were "first-class". I haven't taken the first class on stamps, so I don't know what it means. Maybe it's like flying first class: you get to sit somewhere different and they give you booze. Except for mail.
Once you put this stamp on some mail, it's first-class forever. The first-class lasts indefinitely. Like everlasting gobstoppers.
The pancakes arrived 2 days later by 6pm/7pm eastern when Kevin got home from work. I think I went with priority mail, or whatever the slightly faster one is.
Here are his pictures:
"When I got home from work today, something was waiting for me in the mailbox."
"The envelope was not in perfect shape."
I think the pancakes were trying to escape.
"Inside, I found this:"
"They were not as flat as I expected.
They were still kind of squashed though."
"I microwaved two of them and tried a bite of one."
"Then I ate the rest of it."
"I regretted not having any syrup, but I did put some jam on the other one."
I/we thought he had some syrup samples. Guess not.
That paper earlier...it was a bogus survey I whipped up.
There's a little smudge by Tf2m under gender. Maybe he started circling that one then erased it.
The bottom says:
Everything tastes better when it's mailed.
*For legal purposes, all occurrences of the word 'better' in the preceding sentence are taken to mean 'several days old'.
Pancakes by mail was a success! Now to think up what next to stuff in an envelope and send through the postal service.
