It's A World of Laughter, It's a World Of Tears

I can't understand why I get such perverse pleasure from this but...

Well over a month ago I took my laptop home to work over the weekend. On Monday, sometime between leaving my house and walking down to the train station the ID tag attached to the lappie bag fell off.

The tag was the typical "If found please return to...." and in a moment of rarely displayed pure genius I'd slotted in my business card on the other side of the plastic sleeve.

Annnnnyway. A few minutes ago the lovely woman I sit across the room from presented me with my rather worse for wear lappie bag tag.

The story goes like this:

Some good samaritan had found the tag, kindly put it in an envelope and dropped it in the nearest postbox. Once taken to the main mail distribution centre it was put through one of the mail sorting machines. Unfortunately the small metal ring which attached the tag to the bag was placed in the envelope at an usually awkward angle and due to the pressure of the sorting process, popped out of the envelope. This small metal ring subsequently jammed the sorting machine so badly that it forced NZ Post to contract in some mechanical engineers. It took these engineers several hours to strip down the machine in order to get to the little wee mental ring that was caused the machine to jam.

One of those engineers was my workmates next door neighbour who happened to know that she worked at the place mentioned on the business card. He popped over last night to see if she knew the person the tag belonged to..

It's a small world after all.

And NZ Post hate me.

Am I wrong to find this highly amusing?