Amazing Amazon

I remember when Amazon.com first came into existence.  I thought I had DIED and gone to heaven.  Imagine, shopping online for books, clicking a button and within days that book arrived.

Seriously.  It was like a dream came true.  I was one of their BESTEST customers.  I was not afraid of putting my credit card information online (can you imagine?  I had friends who wouldn't do this because they said it could be "dangerous.") and I sure as hell enjoyed that cardboard box arriving at the office with the Amazon emblem blazed across it.  

Sheer joy.  In fact, I was such a good customer that they sent me an insulated coffee mug stating so.  And those were the days when they JUST sold books.  Just books.  And I was happy with that.  But I became enamored with the concept of things arriving at my door, so I quickly became a regular customer of drugstore.com and PetSomething (so many pet-something names, so little time) and had all my toiletries and dog food delivered.  The UPS man and I -- we were tight.  He especially loved me when he had to deliver the 50 pound bags of dog food.  Oh, and when I ordered wine online he thought I was as cool as they get.

You know, because I am.  Ahh yes, those were the days.  OF FREE SHIPPING.

Then it all went away --- pooof --- in a cloud of cost.  Suddenly it became cost-prohibitive to spend a fortune on shipping when in truth, I could you know, go to the store.  There were no coffee mugs; in fact, Amazon and I parted ways for a time.  I love a trip to the bookstore and the time I went to order a book on Amazon and realized I was going to have to spend $6.00 to get it to me, in a huff I drove to the bookstore and memories of a million past visits to bookstores washed over me as I entered the place, and  I realized I'd done myself a great disservice by never leaving my chair.   And now they were serving coffee!  Things had improved in bookstores since I'd last been.  Who knew.

Then, I stopped working and suddenly proximity to a bookstore became a new issue.  And I tentatively looked at Amazon and realized they had come up with a new plan for free shipping.  Sure, it didn't mean quick delivery anymore, and they were going to ship it all in one package so it meant that if something was backordered, you were in for a good long wait.  But it was a start.  I put my toe back in the water, and of course, in no time was completely submerged.  Amazon and I were back.

And now that I have the Kindle, well, I am a slave to them.  Hell, I was always theirs, I'll admit it.  And today is the dawning of a new era.  I just realized that they sell food.  Yeah, I always knew the word Amazon was due to the fact that they were going to sell everything.  And while I almost exclusively use them for books, I have been aware they sell many other wares.  But not food.

My local grocery store, a Hannaford chain that doesn't believe in making the customer happy, was carrying the line of coconut water that I use in my daily smoothies.  Then the shelves went dry.  I approached their customer service rep and inquired as to whether or not they would be perhaps re-stocking this brand, or even another.  The woman, a corporate flunky with too many years behind the counter, shrugged.  She shrugged.  She didn't even attempt to glance at a computer screen or make up a lie.  Nope.

I know for a fact that they love themselves.  I've seen them all hugging in the aisles.  But they don't apparently love their customers -- or have forgotten in their corporate happy-employees make good employees lessons that the customer is still a factor that should be considered.

Anyway.  I got a little pushy and asked her if perhaps she could find out.  She looked up from whatever she was doing over her thin glasses and sighed.  She sighed!  What was it that I was looking for?

I smiled my nice corporations suck but since they are taking over the world and I can't do a damn thing about it smile and said that there was this coconut water on aisle three that was no longer there.  Was it, perhaps, in another aisle and I couldn't find it.  OR WAS IT FUCKING GONE?  (The last line was in my head ... but I was still smiling that pretty fake smile.)

She sighed again.  I know.  Tough question.  Instead of again, pretending she was doing something about it, she told me to wait a minute, that so and so would be back soon.  

My smile vanished.  I tried, I swear, to keep it pasted on, but those lips were falling downward and I couldn't stop it.  In fact, I was spending more time keeping myself from telling her off or, well, even spitting on her.  What the hell?  

So and so came along and the very busy woman doing nothing asked me to repeat my question.  Wouldn't even take the time to pretend I was important enough worth treating like, well you know, a customer, and whom she was trying to help.  PASS THE BUCK.  I said, with my pasted on smile, that no thanks, clearly they were too busy to help me, I'd go look for another store.

She looked up sharply then, somehow wondering where the nice person asking her the stupid question had gone, and So and so looked alarmed and asked me what was going on, could she ... and this was beautiful.  Could she help!

I sighed and wished vehemently that I had thin, stupid glasses from which to peer at her over and repeated my coconut water question.  Jesus Christ.

She said, oh, you know, I am not sure.  What aisle?  I told her.  She said they were rearranging that aisle.  I said do you think it's in another aisle?  She didn't know.  But she would find out.  Some day.  Well, she didn't say that, but she did look at a computer screen and seemed confused.  Perhaps it wasn't on?

I said fine, you know, I have to go, but next time I'd bring a search party and we would scour the aisles looking for it.  I did say this with my smile .... the one behind which I was saying I AM SO NOT SHOPPING IN THIS STUPID SToRE ANYMORe smile, and she started saying no no, let me go look, but nope.  I was done.

So ... ANYWAY.  I realized I needed a new dealer for my coconut water habit, so I looked online.  And lo and behold, I was brought to amazon.com.  I was delighted -- I do so love Amazon, and lo and behold again, I could get my coconut water for 30 percent cheaper than at the stupid store and FREE SHIPPING and ... I signed up for a subscription service so that every month my case of coconut water will be delivered.

There were angels singing in the background as I pushed all the buttons signing myself up for this wonderful and epic decision.  Then I thought, but wait!  What else do they have?  And they have ALL the superfoods that I travel across the countryside in search of.  Tears were streaming down my face as I clicked and clicked and clicked.  All with free shipping.

HALLELULAH.

Amazon has changed my life yet again.

Now, I think after this ringing endorsement I should get another coffee mug.  Don't you?