I’ll tell you what brown can do for me

So many months ago that I’ve forgotten how many months ago it was, the freight company that had been delivering the largest volume of shipment to my store was suddenly replaced by another company that specializes in delivering individual packages, not freight. What’s the difference? Not a whole lot I guess, except that a freight company specializes in handling and delivering bulk shipments and our replacement company, that I’ll call, um, DOWNS, apparently specializes in showing up late, showing up at inconsistent times, playing musical chairs with their drivers and damaging my shipment, all the while promising that they’re working on fixing it.

And they don’t make deliveries on pallets, either. You may remember me bemoaning my discovery of this just a few weeks after deciding that I would build my sugar shack out of pallets. Bastards robbed me of my free supply of badly damaged, oil stained, nail ridden lumber. And then they’ve gotta rub it in by dropping off boxes that are holding more water than books, if the books haven’t fallen out of the giant holes in the boxes.

Way back in those days that were so long ago I can’t recall when they were, I made the prediction that all the gushing attention being lauded on us by DOWNS was fleeting, and that as soon as we (me and the four other “test stores”) stopped complaining about how the service that was promised to us was only realized through the use of metaphorical torture and violence (read: persistent bitching and moaning), that we would become just another one of their trophy accounts, displayed in a case to be bragged about to friends and stockholders, but effectively left to collect dust while they compete for a new trophy.

In the beginning we held conference calls every week. Wednesday at 11. After 2 and a half months of listening to us (the stores) tell them (our company and DOWNS) that the problems from the previous weeks still hadn’t been resolved, they rescheduled the calls to every other week, then eventually once a month, then every 3 or 4 weeks, and on Tuesday, no Thursday at 3, no 1. It was a lot like that girl you dated who was really into you at first but then as time went on she always seemed to have other more important things to do than be seen with you. Yeah. My company just wants to be friends.

Today happened to be the day when I realized the truth of my prescient vision. And it was my goddamn birthday. What a bummer. I couldn’t have a crappy revelation on some other day? Like, I don’t know, Groundhog Day?

In other news, my friend April brought me a single chocolate cupcake at the end of my shift today. Mmmmmmm. I’d die for you now, April. Not in a Bryan Adams way, but a Bon Jovi way. I hate Bryan Adams.


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