Anderson remembers well the investment banker from London, with his wife and kids, arriving on Christmas Eve at their house on the lake. As she scrambled to prepare, the UPS man was constantly passing the FedEx man at the door.
Dishes. Glasses. Caviar cups.
At one point, he opened his truck and inside were eight cardboard boxes, each containing a fresh-cut Christmas tree, shipped overnight all the way from the East Coast.
“Now who in the world,” she wondered, “in this land of trees, this land of Christmas, this land of winter, would ship in Christmas trees all the way from the East Coast? It was insane.”
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