Amazon scares me sometimes. They terrify me the most when I have to order something for the office on the corporate account, because it’s not the same as personal ordering. Some things cannot be ordered on the corporate account, which makes it tough to get prizes for the staff.
Lately we have had a few prizes to order, because a month-long contest was in progress. This is how we learned not to order gift cards, always put special instructions anyplace there is a memo field online, and remember to pray really hard every night until each delivery is accounted for.
A few weeks ago I had to order a Grand Prize for somebody; a flat screen TV. This involved a precisely-worded Amazon search to get exactly what the contest called for, followed by redirecting the delivery to the individual, a lengthy approval process and the services of a witch doctor, all of which took long enough that I went on vacation before the prize was actually shipped. Also, I had to order a handful of additional prizes, so I did take the time to notify the lucky recipients that they should expect delivery on the select days I had received from Amazon; the TV was part of the group scheduled for the following Monday.
At home on the first day of my vacation, my growing sense of relaxation was interrupted by a cell phone call from Amazon: they announced that they were right outside my house with my package. First of all, I said to the operator, the package wasn’t mine; second, it’s not coming to my house; third, the person might not be at the front of the house to receive the package. After having gone to the trouble of specifying that the recipient’s name was not mine, I couldn’t imagine why they were calling me, so when I asked which delivery it was, they refused to reveal where they were going or to whom. They were, however, calling me as if I were the recipient. I told them that, if no response was coming, they may want to try again later. They hung up on me, but I did not hear back, which normally indicates the delivery was successful.
Last week went without a hitch. Then came this week, and I got an email from the intended TV recipient, saying they never got the set! Thank goodness I lived through the potential coronary that followed. Administrative prize ordering is not for the faint-hearted.
As I started playing Shirley Holmes (hey, folks, I’m no detective dude), I managed to come across a photo of the delivery; there was the television, propped up against a porch window. I dutifully sent a copy of the photo to the recipient. She replied that it was indeed her back porch and, after taking a few minutes to actually go out back and look, the package, mercifully, was there.
Is it me, or is it unusual for a person to not venture into the back of their property for nearly a week and a half, especially when they are expecting a major award?
At least her neighborhood doesn’t seem to have back porch pirates.
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