My Kindle was an office holiday gift. What’s that you say? You got a $20 iTunes gift card? A cheap bottle of wine? Well, that’s not the way we roll, yo. Anyway. Once I got over my initial disdain for aforementioned Kindle, and decided that I lurrrrved it and wanted it to ask me to go steady, I figured that, since I got it for free, I’d buy Kindle a pretty case, one that zipped all the way closed and kept it protected from the God-only-knows-what-horrible-disgustingness that lives in my purses. Amazon.com, my online home away from home for all-things-purchasable presented me with a pretty turquoise zippy little number for a cool thirty dollars. I’m cheap, but when the Kindle’s for free… so I bought it. And then it just. Didn’t. Arrive. So un-Amazon-like. So I wait patiently. And patiently. Then I totally forgot about it for a few days until one random Tuesday when I was sitting at my desk diligently working away (heh) and it hit me: “Where the f&%^$ is my Kindle cover?”
I click on to Amazon, see that it says it was delivered two days ago. Oh no, Amazon. We are not going to start lying to each other, are we? Because no Kindle cover had arrived for me. I thought our relationship was built on trust, my buying things I don’t need, and you shipping them to me so quickly I am not able to think it over and decide to cancel my order. So I print out the delivery receipt so I can call and complain. And that’s when I see it: My old address. (At this point the best song ever, Barenaked Ladies’ ‘Old Apartment’ popped into my head and I had teary, slow motion water-color images of my past apartment floating dreamily in my head.) They have all of my old addresses saved, and either I didn’t click the right one or the system messed up, but either way, the address it had been delivered to was in the same city, but was three apartments ago.
So I call, and what do you know, Ms. Amazon Customer Service Woman could not have been nicer, explains to me that she can’t resend the item as it’s already been delivered, but she would put the money back into my account and I can then repurchase this now mythical cover. Thank you, Ms. Amazon Customer Service Woman, for being so nice. Of course then I get the money into my account and I’m all “Hello, precious. Hi thirty dollars! You are just so CUTE! I thought I had lost you! Welcome home! I’m sorry I spent you, I won’t do it again.” And I didn’t; I just let the Kindle swim in the filth of my bag. Until. Until drunken genius took over.
I found myself at a bar next to The Old Apartment. I had some wine. I had some more wine. And then. Innocent Couple walks down the street. Drunk Me sees this, runs out of bar, and mysteriously and secretly (read: obviously and reeking of wine) waits and watches to see where they are headed. And WIN! They walk up the steps to The Old Apartment! “Hey. HEY!” I smoothly (trashedly) say to (scream at) them. “I totally, like, um, used to live there. Could you like um, look and see if there’s a package for Drunk Me in your hallway?” Girl looked scared, Boy was all “Huh?” I re-explained, they went inside. I thought all was lost. And then. THEN! He comes back outside with my package! Fireworks went off, glitter rained down from the sky. And unicorns! There were UNICORNS. I thanked him profusely (drunkenly hugged him) and ran back into the bar. I opened my package and there, there he was. Kindle Cover, now known as Accidentally Stolen Kindle Cover because I already got the refund for it. And it was love at first sight.
And now all I am dealing with is my Irish Catholic mother telling me that I will have bad karma forever unless I call Amazon and tell them I now owe them thirty dollars.
- Aint he handsome?
opheliasprozac 
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