do you work for free?

My mathematician friend, who is a constant source of amusement, sent me an email he wrote to an amazon seller from whom he was trying to buy shit for his bike. He ordered some brake pads for them only to find out the shipping costs were as much as the brake pads. He cancelled the order once he found that out, citing the reason for the cancellation as the shipping being to costly. The seller, who obviously needs to take some business classes, sent him an email:

We have to do about 15 mins of paperwork for all international orders, & then we have a 23 mile round trip to bring international packages to our post office where they all have to be weighed & measured. Time is money, do you work for free ?    ..... because my shipper doesn't & neither do I.
I think a lot of customers lose site that when you order online, you are paying for a service,  so you can sit at home & have your stuff delivered to your door without having to run around shopping trying find what you want, saving time & gas. If you don't like shipping cost then go & support your local bicycle shop instead of ordering online.

So he sent this response (hee):

Hey, [dick head amazon seller],

We're losing something in all the relays and translations, here. I'm not trying to insult you, or demean your efforts to provide customer service. I completely understand that folks are investing effort and trying to make a living from every one of these transactions and shipments.

Here's my customer experience to perhaps give you some context for my comment:

The headset on my three year old cyclocross bike is starting to 'clunk'. I'm thinking "that timing is about right, since these days the manufacturer is all about tapered headsets and they probably don't make the one that will fit my bike anymore".

I go to the manufacturers' websites for the specs, rather than riding to my LBS, since I’m at work and am supposed to be working.

The manufacturers website is a carnival of videos and links to race results and t-shirt sales, but after about 10 minutes I'm pretty sure it is not going to tell me anything quickly about the OMS headset for their 2010 model.

But while I'm there, I see a link to the results of one of their sponsored racers and I remember seeing a magazine feature about his bike back in the day, which prompted me to buy mine in the first place. I look that up, and there it is in a photo - super fancy ceramic headset - not like the one on my bike that goes clunk.

I crib the name of the part from the picture and hit the search engine. I discover that - wonder - that particular headset is no longer being advertised by its manufacturer, but seems to be available all over the internet at deep discount. I begin to salivate.

I try a couple of direct orders, but the part seems to be sold out at most distributors. I am referred to Amazon Marketplace again and again, though, because they seem to have collected all the Google box tops and are put at the top of the results for every search.

I go there and query. They say they have the headset. Yay! And I have an account, even, because I've bought books from them in the past. Cool.

I put the headset in my 'shopping cart' on their website.

Before it lets me pay, Amazon tells me that "people like you also recently purchased..." and shows me a bunch of little pictures across the bottom of the screen. I remember that my LBS was out of Swissstop Green pads last time I asked for them and I hate having to default to Shimano pads because they get black rubber dust all over everything. I add a 4 pack of the Swissstop pads to my Amazon cart.

I use Amazon's "one click check out" and go back to paying work.

Email confirmation of my order comes to my inbox. The email tells me that the headset is coming from one supplier in one place, and that the brake pads are coming from another supplier in another. I think "That's pretty stupid".

Amidst a bunch of other reassuring stuff, their email also mentions that the shipping charges for the brake pads will be 130% of the cost of the product itself. I think "that's *really* stupid."

"This is not an economic trend I should be encouraging", I further decide, "I could wait the time it will take the order to get to me here in Kanukistan and the pads will be in stock again at my LBS".

I click the link provided for "if you need to return an item from this shipment or manage other orders, please visit 'Your Orders' on Amazon.com".

I cancel the order with the handy button there, and in the comment box, because I'm polite, I give them a little feedback and say, "Shipping cost disproportionately high" in case the presence of the comment box is actually a sign that they are interested in my consumer experience and are willing to consider the reasons for the cancellation.

Amazon sends me a note telling me my brake pad order has shipped and dusts their hands of the matter - " Thank you for shopping with us. We thought you'd like to know that [dick head seller] shipped your item, and that this completes your order. Your order is on its way, and can no longer be changed."

Hmmnnn... I mull this over for a bit.

And decide, "Caveat emptor. You just wanted the snazzy headset anyway, and the discount on that will offset your now-pricey brake pads", I continue with my work.

But, I am clearly not having a good day. Amazon sends me a notice saying that the order for my headset has been cancelled because the item is out of stock at wherever it was in that other place they had said they were going to ship it from.

I am saddened by this news. I am not relishing further internet adventures. Plus, my bike will continue to judder every time I brake in the interim. I notice with wry amusement, however, that the headset part of the shipment, were I to receive it, would have only cost me 8% of the purchase price of the headset for its actual shipping... A shame. Ah, well.

This morning on the way to work, a commuter coming downhill out of control on his mountain bike along the narrow, tree-lined bike path nerfed me off the outside of a blind corner as I was riding up. He had disk brakes, but was going about a million miles an hour.

I was standing to climb as he came at me, and I bunny hopped sideways to get out of his line. My bike was sort of clear, but he hit my left hand with his handlebars and ploughed his helmet into my left shoulder with significant force, knocking me over the edge.

Lying in the punji stakes I had just made, I thought, "For Fucks Sake!" (I may even have said that part out loud), and struggled back toward the path in the hope of catching the idiot and beating the shit out of him.

I needn't have bothered - when I found him tangled in his bike in the trees on the other side of the path a little way downhill, his nose was broken and there was blood and mud and torn clothes everywhere.

He seemed dazed and intimidated. We exchanged a few words, but he refused help and gave every indication of wanting to get on his way. I picked my bike out of the bushes and rode on up the path, massaging my shoulder. He limped out of sight around the next corner down, wheeling his piece.

My shifter was twisted on the drop from the accident and the bar tape under it was unraveling, but further damage seems to have been prevented by my left hand taking most of the hit. My glove was torn. My front brake was dragging on the wheel. My headset seemed worse than before.

Here at the office, facing another day, I find your email in my inbox, as copied below. You employ the word "site" inappropriately and seem to be arguing that you are saving me from having to "run around shopping".

Next to it, a marketing outfit has sent two messages offering me a $50 Amazon gift certificate if I will participate in a survey.

I just now have discovered a trail of dried blood on my neck, coming from my left ear. No one I've talked to in the course of business this morning has said anything about it.

All I want to ask you is...

Do you have any good bar tape in stock? I'm going to have to rewrap my drops after I fix that left shift lever and its cabling tonight.

For all of us who shop online...ha  ha  haaaaa.

And yes, I am too jet lagged today to write my own blog post. That's why I make friends with amusing people.

all in pays off

My dad was a little concerned when I quit my job last week without an official offer letter from my new company. Then I botched my drug test by drinking too much water. Even though I've never done an illegal drug in my life (except for taking white crosses, which aren't illegal but do require a prescription, one summer in 1989 when I was working on a farm and training for karate in the evenings, which basically required me to sometimes stay awake for two days at a stretch) my parents seemed worried about the test.

Obviously, I passed. I am free of my former employer, picture me shooting them the bird in my rear view.

Onward to better things...

a dress made of wine

How awesome is that!!!!!!!!!!

http://shine.yahoo.com/fashion/dress-made-wine-181300537.html.

Of course, one wonders why a scientist didn't drink his wine rather than leaving it around to get contaminated with bacteria...

that's what I get for taking a drug test in the tenderloin

Right after class today I literally ran 2.1 miles to the lab where I was scheduled to retake my drug test. I ended up getting this chinese dude as my "collector". Though the lab was more of the set up I'm used to the whole thing was strange.

For starters, the collector said he normally watches people pee in the cup. I was like "huh". Then he said he would give me privacy if I wanted it. I was like "Um, yeah." Then he said "if you want me to watch you pee in cup I will." No thanks.

The bathroom was right off the collector's office so there was no chance I could screw it up like I did last time. The collector insisted I keep the door open a crack and after I had been peeing for a few seconds he yelled in to me "that should be enough!" Creepy. Who listens to people peeing?

I sat down with him and the chain of custody docs. We were exchanging pleasantries about urine. He explained the dilute issue I had before and said there wasn't enough potassium and something else (sodium?) in my last sample and that the lab never should have taken it because they can tell by the color if it's too diluted. Apparently it's hard to screen for water added because the water can be filtered. They should have had me wait another 45 minutes and take the test again. Assholes.

Then the conversation went down hill. He saw that the company requesting the test is in the healthcare industry:

Collector: Oh, so you a nurse?
Me: Um, no.
Collector: Oh, you look very cute in nurse uniform.
Me. Hm.
Collector: You wear nurse uniform. Blond makes nice nurse.
Me: I'll keep that in mind.
Collector: Urine very nice color. (Holding the specimen up to the light as if it's a rare diamond) You make very nice sample.
Me: Uh, thanks. Can I go now?
Collector: Colorado very pretty. I would like to visit Colorado.
Me: Me too. Too bad I travel all the time (fake laugh).

Hopefully he will expedite my test so my new employer can get the results back tomorrow or Wednesday... I don't think I can survive taking the test again.

Just got into San Fran today (so glad I won't be doing this kind of travel anymore - I fucking hate having only one day at home before I'm off to the next place - how crazy is it that I'm in Orlando one day and San Fran two days later - no one should have to do that kind of travel).

I'm staying in a totally shit hotel in the tenderloin district. I knew I had arrived in the right place when I was confronted by a man wearing only pink Y fronts and a pink feather boa. He said "I love you Greta Garbo!" (I was wearing a hat and sunglasses - I blew him a kiss and he screamed and flapped his boa around).

Walked around the neighborhood. It's been a while since I've been here. When I lived in Capitola back in 2000 - 2001 I used to know San Fran like the back of my hand. But today I kept getting confused about where I was. I went to the fruit market and bought cherries. They were $1 a lb (they are $8 a lb in Denver). The lady was like "wow, that's a lot of cherries you're buying" and I was like "well, I'm here for three days" and she was like "that's a lot of cherries to eat in three days". Really? Because I've already eaten a quarter of them. So fresh and good, I LOVE cherries. I should have bought peaches too.

Then I decided to time the walk to the lab where I'll be retaking my drug test. I passed a theater where I once dragged my ex-husband's company to see a one man play called "Don't Make Me Say Things That Will Hurt You". It was about a gay guy who broke up with his lover and involved, at one point, him waving two double headed dildos around with Mr. Potato Head face parts glued to the penis heads. Imagine 6 terrified software engineers, most from the east coast, sitting in the front row with me. I laughed my ass off through the whole show and then we had crepes.

I passed the Hotel Rex, where, a few months after my divorce, a rich Indian guy I had met through a friend reserved a room for me so he could meet me in person. His name was Raj. I flew in early Friday morning and was supposed to leave on Sunday. He paid for my plane ticket from Baltimore and the room, picked me up at the airport, took me for drinks in the US Bank Building (best bar ever), dropped me at the hotel, and I never saw him again. We were supposed to meet for lunch the following day but he never called. I took advantage of the time by having dinner with my ex-husband and his then girlfriend. Sunday I saw Vanilla Sky and was like that's kind of my life, bought the sound track, and listened to it the whole flight home. Got an email from Raj two months later, on Valentine's Day. I didn't respond.

I walked passed the argonaut book store, where I used to buy books. Passed a restaurant near Fillmore where I used to eat after going to the ballet. Passed Le Central, the oldest french bistro in San Fran, where we sometimes had dinner on Friday nights. Walked up a steep hill and thought about how I always had to drive in San Fran because my ex could never manage the clutch on hills. Thought about how me and my friend Kerreck, who was a ballet dancer, used to sneak into unused boxes at the ballet (we'd go to our proper seats in the grand tier and when the ballet started we would sneak out and into an unused box).

Then I started thinking about how I should try to go to the exploratorium before I leave Wednesday night and how it was there that I first discovered I have a heart murmur (I was checking my heart rate on a machine that made a graphic of heart rate and a doctor walking by stopped and was like "oh my god, you need to get that checked out!" because my heart rate looked like a stair case instead of a mountain range).

I remembered how my ex used to pretend to be retarded in public and how I would yell at him and people would look at me like I was a bitch (he was acting retarded on the street and one woman stopped, patted him on the head, and said "you are a very special boy!" before glaring at me). He also, on my 30th birthday, told me we were going to a wedding but it ended up being Tony and Tina's wedding. Everyone in the audience knew it was a surprise for me. I was sitting in the church wondering why all these people I knew had been invited to the wedding when the show began. About 10 minutes into it I was like "this isn't a real wedding!" and everyone in the audience laughed. Three software engineers that worked for my ex, Brian, Bryan, and Matt, gave me a real Navy SEAL diving knife that was engraved with "I'm gonna git you sucka!" on one side and "Love Brian, Bryan, and Matt" on the other. My sister's asspipe (now ex) husband threw it out when I stored my dive equipment at their house during a move. The night of my birthday I strapped it to my thigh like I was a Bond girl.

Wow. That was a long bunch of what the fuck reflection. I was sitting on the plane today thinking how everything in my life is changing (not just work but why delve into my personal life) and I thought of this poem someone gave me last year about this guy watching deer in the snowy woods. The last line is "I realize I've wasted my life".

Don't want that to be my poem too. Change is good.