So I’ve been looking for a replacement pair of kicks for the last little while, and anyone who knows me knows a few things about my taste. One is that I like to wear mainly black and white shoes, that’s just my thing. I used to wear authentic chuck taylors, but since the company was bought out by nike, I can’t bring myself to purchase them. That brings us to my second shoe-point; I hate Nike and love Adidas. Why? I’m not too sure. It might be a combination of my latent punk past, what with my disdain for all things large coporate (namely nike), and my Hispanic heritage that embracess Adidas and all it stands for. To a latin, Adidas IS soccer, and Adidas IS sport.
The perfect pair of Adidas are hard to find. For the last year or so I’ve been rocking these white leather Campus Adidas that don’t look too unlike Creepers, so they’ve got a nice rockabilly flair to them. But they’ve been loved a little too much and the leather is starting to crack.
What I’ve always had my heart set on, since I’ve started buying shell-toes, is a pair that has the chuck taylor coloring. Black sides, white toes. Pretty simple right? Well, I thought so until I actually starting trying to find them in earnest. It turnes out finding a pair of Super Stars with those exact hues is hard to come across than procuring a piece of the true cross. They might as well be made of safron and dodo eggs, given how rare they are.
But the other day Doozy and I found them perched on the wall of out local sporting equipment outfitters, begging to be bought, and seeing as how my 25th was still a week away, she got them for me. The day is saved! Right? Well, not quite. You see, my size was out of stock (10) and they had to order it in (7-10 business days) so I’d have to wait of my shoe salvation to come in the mail.
I figured that it wouldn’t be to hard, considering how full my plate was at the time, the days would fly past.
Fast forward to yesterday. While checking the mail, I noticed a stange post card from UPS. It’s relayed that they tried to deliver a package to me a week ago but they didn’t know what to do, so they’d be send my package back to the main depot in Ontario by the 28th unless I go down to Richmond to pick it up. Welp, yesterday was the 28 and there was no way in hell that I’d be able to make it to the next city over before the sent my dear kicks to London. So I called the toll-free and they told me that the shoes hadn’t left yet and that I could get them sent to a UPS store nearby. Only thing is that I’d have to find that store, call the manager there and get premission and then call back the toll-free to give them the details.
Fine, simple enough.
After tracking down a spot a block away from the building and pleading my case to three people on staff there (it’s going to cost 10 bucks just to pick it up) I called back the toll-free and gave them the info. Great, grand, wheels are in motion and I should have my shoes sometime on the 29th.
About 10 minutes later I get a call from London, Ontario. It’s the UPS people over there. Apparently my request for transfer has been ordered incorrectly and the shoes are still going to London, only now instead of my apartment being the intended destination, the address has been changed to that of the UPS store I wanted it sent to. So I had to call the toll-free number again to have them straighten this out, but by this point I was talking to maybe a third representative who seemed about as interested in my case as a vegetarian at a steakhouse. She said that the order was fine and that it should be at the UPS store on the 29th as intended, but if it were to be shipped to London, it’d have to call tomorrow to see where it had been sent.
So after 5 phone conversations, I still don’t know where my shoes are and I probably won’t know until the end of the day.
It turns out UPS stands for Unhelpful Personal Service.
Or maybe Ugly Pelvic Scenes.
Urban Parachute Snakes?
