This is not Banjo Man’s new pair of sweatpants, but it’s definitely more interesting.
Did someone send it to me? If you did, please let me know so I can shower you with thanks. As the cover says, there are 1000 recipes inside.
When the package hit the front deck, Amazon sent an email that said my order had been delivered. The order was supposed to contain new sweatpants.
My forty-five minute “chat” online with an Amazon customer service representative this morning finally led to an understanding, though it was not easy to get to that point. Surely, in the tens of millions of packages that Amazon has shipped, mine couldn’t have been the first one sent in error. But “Anisha” was flummoxed, poor thing.
Two hours later a gift card was sent to my account and I reordered the sweatpants. The cookbook stays with me for now, until someone from Amazon demands its return. From what I understand, if I send it back Amazon will think I should have sent back sweatpants and and then all hell will break loose.
I don’t want to spend any more time on the computer. Two days ago I was in an extended “chat” about an issue with my new Kindle reader. I ended up sending it back for a replacement. This morning my Fitbit app recorded that I’d eaten 7200 calories for breakfast. The Fitbit folks could not figure it out, but they did their best and said they’d email me Monday. I ended up solving it myself (the app weirdly recorded that I ate 100 bananas).
Two days ago I chatted with a “beauty consultant” at Bobbi Brown. My favorite lipstick shade was no longer available and no one knew when or if it would return. The consultant came up with another shade that is very, very close to “Neutral Rose” and I so hope she is right.
This “chatting” business takes a lot of time. I’m sure it’s faster than being on hold with Customer Service, but there are times when I wish that sweatpants and lipstick would simply appear on my doorstep. Like magic.
And maybe next week they will.