Column By Mike Bibb
Occasionally, I search for and buy stuff from eBay and online vendors. Until recently, I’ve had pretty good success in finding, ordering, and receiving the items I wanted.
Sure, there’s been a few hiccups, but for the most part, it’s proven to be a relatively positive experience.
Last week, however, was the proverbial “Exception to the rule” experience.
Keeping with the old “Dragnet” TV police show disclaimer — “The names have been changed to protect the innocent.”
A polite way of reminding us Hollywood’s producers of the program “Can’t afford another lawsuit from a bunch of irritated folks who believe our scripted drama is actually reflective of their particular encounter with the police.”
Even though the names have been changed to protect the innocent, how do the producers and directors know the names they’ve changed to are actually innocent?
Anyway, last week I ordered a product advertised on eBay. After several days, the postal driver delivered it to my neighborhood mail box.
Upon unlocking the parcel bin and removing the package, I immediately thought, “This box doesn’t seem to be the right size to contain the item I ordered.”
FYI, the product I wanted was about 3×3 inches by 18 inches and weighed around four pounds.
Consequently, I assumed the carton’s measurements would be of a similar size.
Instead, the parcel measured 8x8x8 inches — a square cube cardboard box.
The weight seemed appropriate, but the dimensions were not even close unless my item was in two or three pieces.
Which, it wasn’t supposed to be.
After removing the bubble-wrapped contents from the dining room table, I discovered the reason for the irregularity of the shipping container: a wood-framed, ceramic plate inscribed with a picture and a brief bio of former Princess Diana of England was enclosed.
Double-checking the shipper and address label, to be sure I was the intended recipient, everything looked correct — name, street address, city, state, and zip.
The only exception was Princess Di visiting Safford, Arizona? My lineage may derive from old English ancestry, and a few early Colonists who didn’t subscribe to the King’s way of governing things, but a few hundred years later, I really didn’t see the need for a recent Royal dropping by to pay a visit.
Returning to the laptop and composing a brief inquiry to the shipper, I soon received a reply stating that a mistake had been made and that I could kindly return the item, and that “Lucy” would reimburse the postage fees.
Since I’d already surmised a mistake had been made, I repackaged the plate and drove down to the post office.
Laying $10.45 on the counter to send Di back to wherever she came from, I hurried home to the computer to inform Lucy that the missent package was on its way to her.
She thanked me and reassured me that a reimbursement would soon follow.
Two days later, my original order was delivered from Lucy.
But that’s not the end of the story.
The following day, I received another package from Lucy. Since I hadn’t ordered anything else, I became a little intrigued over what was going on.
As before, I set the parcel on the dining table, cut the packing tape, unwound the bubble wrap (Lucy uses lots of bubble wrap), and discovered this time she had mailed me two small clear glass flower vases, about 6″ high.
Very nice, and I’m sure would be appreciated by someone — maybe the same person who originally ordered the Princess Diana plate.
Back to the laptop.
“Oh no, the printer must have triple printed your address label!” Lucy exclaimed. “Please return, and I’ll pay you the shipping charges.”
I was getting familiar with the drill: Lucy mistakenly sends an item, I return it, and reimbursement is supposed to follow.
This time, the postal counter clerk charged $11.75. Return shipping costs had more than doubled to $22.20.
If this keeps up, I may be forced out of retirement to seek reemployment as a Walmart greeter — just to pay my postage fees.
Okay, Lucy’s explanation for the series of snafus seemed credible, except I don’t quite understand how a labeling error (three times) is responsible for three different orders being sent to the same guy.
Weren’t these other orders placed under different names, with different items, with different sizes and weights, mailed to different addresses in other towns and states?
Surely, I wasn’t the only customer the printer was making shipping labels for.
More importantly, didn’t the packer of the parcels notice something odd? Especially, since the items were being returned because of shipping flub-ups.
If there’s a profit motive in this business, it’s being eroded by excessive shipping and return expenses.
Maybe that’s just the way things are being done now, since English seems to be devolving into a second or third language.
With an extremely complicated name, like Michelangelo di Lodovico Buronarroti Simoni, even attempting to spell and pronounce all 39 letters must be a daunting task — regardless of how famous the dude was.
But, M-i-k-e B-i-b-b throws the printer into a stuttering tizzy? Seriously!
Considering only five individual letters are actually used, and three of the four are the same in my last name.
Like many things, it’s so simple it’s confusing!
The opinions expressed in this editorial are those of the author. Keep an eye out for part two to see if Mike gets his reimbursement.
