UNKNOWN – For the past year, Kevin Orson had been living anonymously on a deserted island, free of modern annoyances like social media, junk mail, and people. But his world was turned upside down last Tuesday when he received a personally addressed letter from the meal kit service, HelloFresh.
“I was on my morning jog and needed a hydration break. I smashed open a coconut and inside there it was – a HelloFresh invite, with those weird little credit card coupons, asking if I wanted 20 ‘free’ meals,” recounts Orson, with tears in his eyes. “How did they find me?”
Orson explains that he started receiving the invites about four years ago, when he was still living in society: “At first it was just a piece of junk mail here and there. I never wanted to sign up because of all the single-use, plastic packaging those kits come with. Just imagine the carbon footprint!” says Orson, who had commissioned a private charter to drop him off on the island.
As Orson recounts, the occasional piece of mail soon turned into incessant invites, which came in all forms.
“There were letters, sure, but also emails, text messages, tweets – I even got a phone call once at 4AM!” says Orson. “It was just heavy breathing for 2 minutes, but I know it was them because before hanging up they whispered ‘First 10 boxes, 50% off’.”
While Orson tried unsubscribing, moving, and even contacting law enforcement, it was of no use. “Oh the police are definitely in on it,” says Orson. “Visit any station and you’ll see they’re littered with meal kit evidence – ice packs, couscous, tiny single servings of chicken broth. Not a goddamn donut in sight!”
Alone and afraid, Orson reached his breaking point when hundreds of invites came down his chimney and filled his living room. “But this time, they weren’t just from HelloFresh,” recounts Orson with a thousand-yard stare. “There was Goodfood, Factor, Chefs Plate, MissFresh, Plant Prepped, WeCook – they were ALL there! I set fire to them and left for the island the next day.”
Despite the major life upheaval, irreversible personal trauma, and outstanding arson charges, Orson admits to finally being tempted to place an order.
“I will say that I’m getting a little bored of just eating fish, seagulls, and manatees – which is apparently super illegal so don’t print that,” says Orson. “And all that plastic packaging the kits come with? It might actually make for a decent raft.”
Jesus Christ is King
