I consider myself a reasonable man. I have to be, since I share a house with a small child whose religion involves sacrificing a third of his food to the floor gods. I didn’t go into a deep depression when Ohio State lost the Orange Bowl, a game with zero impact. I even drove all the way to Hutchinson, KS, in an ice storm, stopping every 20 miles to chip the ice off of my windshield wipers.
Wait, maybe that last one wasn’t as reasonable as I think.
My point is that I’m a pretty cool customer. But Amazon, you have crossed me. You sent me an e-mail saying my stuff had shipped, and I took you at your word. You expected it to be in by 8 o’clock tonight. I TRUSTED YOU. And this is how you treat me: by making me wait an extra day to get my stuff.
Listen, my whole week was building to this. I ordered the extended edition DVD of the Hobbit, the one with all the extra features. True, I already got the two-disc edition for Christmas, but I was really looking forward to seeing Peter Jackson justify turning a 300-page book into a trilogy of three-hour movies. Was I going to watch the entire movie tonight? Almost certainly not, since I literally watched it a week ago and it’s nearly 9 o’clock and I have to work in the morning. But that’s not the point. I could have watched like 45 minutes of it before I fell asleep on the couch. But that’s not going to happen now, is it?
And not only that, but my copy of The Annotated Hobbit is also apparently farting around the Bermuda Triangle while I’m here reading the boring non-annotated version. How will I be able to entertain my wife and children by citing Tolkien’s notes on why he changed the text to “Riddles in the Dark”? You expect me to look that up? That dog don’t hunt, monsieur.
Look, I read things on the internet expecting a certain level of accuracy. I don’t care that two-thirds of the continental US has had the climate of Greenland for the last two days. Just because I haven’t been able to feel my feet since Saturday doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have gotten my package on a snowmobile or something. I mean, this is the company that’s talking about sending packages via drones by 2015. You’re saying you don’t have a fleet of delivery men decked out like Edmund Hillary?
Giving me a tracking number is a pledge, Amazon. It’s a pledge that I will have my time-wasters by a certain time. You think I don’t have anything better to do than to check the status of my package every 15 minutes? Well, you’re right. And that’s why I really needed that DVD and that book.
Thanks for nothing Amazon. This minor inconvenience is one of the true injustices of our time.