nameless ways

I have just rescued from my office postbox, where it was misfiled, a letter returned to the department because of an insufficient address. It was a reply to an applicant; the address would have been auto-generated from the applicant's information given on a form, most likely the online application form. The address reads, in beautiful simplicity,

{name of applicant}
B
Claremont, Cape Town

I am floored. Of course the busy denizens of the undergrad admin office should have spotted this, and it's probably a database glitch, but I cannot prevent myself from constructing the probable thought processes of someone capable of locating themselves as "B, Claremont". My current theory is that they've accidentally allowed to slip into our mundane world the far more interesting and essentialised identifications of the other, alternate Claremont which co-exists, through secret doors, with our own. In that other city "B" is clearly an instantly recognisable figure, like Father Christmas - possibly some sort of superhero, one of the happy array from A to Z. "B" probably has a bat-signal, or a well-known dead-drop spot.

I'd rather live in that world than the one with the database glitch.