Three durians the size of my head were wrapped neatly in clear heavy-duty shrink wrap, they smelled about a week from being optimally ripe, just in time. I carefully unfolded the backpack I had in my pocket and shook it out. The wind caused a flurry of white powder and amidst the fake winter, I gingerly picked up the durian package with my hands and once they were securely in the backpack, I slowly donned the pack and took the back exit. The sirens were deafening as the police arrived, loud enough to cover my grunts of discomfort as the durians poked into my back. I knew I should have splurged and gotten the model that allows you to self-inflate a cushion for the back.