Does UPS stand for Unintended Porch Service? On March 6, I ordered a device from Amazon.com, a company I’ve found to be very reliable and trustworthy. Soon thereafter, I received an e-mail that the device had shipped and should arrive on March 10. A day or so later, another e-mail comes along with a UPS tracking number. But there was something strange about the dates. It stated that the object had shipped on March 7, delivered on February 28, and left on the porch. Huh? Did we somehow slip into the weird world of quantum physics and our normal concepts of time become skewed?
March 10 comes along and when I arrive home around dark, I see no package on the porch. Not a good sign. But then I didn’t check the porch on Feb. 28; I could have missed it—there’s that. I go back to UPS tracking and lo, an update. Now there is no mention of 2/28 but instead lists the original target date of 3/10 as the day of delivery. Problem was, the package had been delivered at 5:04 and left on porch. I conduct a thorough search of the porch. It didn’t take long. There was no package on the porch, in the yard, or in the flower garden. There was no package in the mailbox, on the driveway, or in front of the garage door.
Now pissed and ready to call the CEO of UPS, intending to refer to the canine linage of his ancestry, when I spy my neighbor from across the street heading my way. He is carrying a package. He shrugs and hands it over. No, the address was correct. Yes, the neighbor did share the first two numbers of my house number, but there the similarity ends. Close enough for UPS I guess.
Thinking back on it, I should share the blame. After all, this is Oklahoma where the drawer is full of dull knives. I should have checked all the porches on the street before considering a claim, I can see that now. My bad?
But the story doesn’t end there. The device I ordered? Defective. I’m looking at a return, another shipment, and another tracking number. Remember the movie Groundhog Day where every day was a replay of the last? I’m living it.