I’ll pay extra extra for destruction-free delivery 

burning flames

Well, I hope the delivery-person made it out OK.

I received an e-mail notification from Amazon today. Apparently, they’re refunding my money for an order that never arrived.

The explanation given was that the item was “destroyed during transit.”

Destroyed.

Now normally I’m not one to pry into the proprietary operations of the parcel-delivering industry. The process by which an item reaches my doorstep is really none of my concern. All I care is that I receive it.

However, in this scenario, given that the item not only didn’t arrive as expected, but was in fact outright destroyed (as the communication proclaimed), I would argue that further explanation is required.

Not so much because I care about the item itself. (It was a bottle of magnesium capsules, after all; not an irreplaceable heirloom.)

But I’m genuinely curious. How does an innocuous item meet such a ruthless and untimely demise?

The word “destroyed” carries so many horrific implications, it makes my mind start whirling. Already, I can imagine myriad possibilities:

Perhaps the truck plunged headfirst into a herd of cattle that happened to be crossing the highway, and the vehicle and all the packages it contained exploded in a fiery inferno.

It’s possible. Maybe the intersection was poorly lit, and the driver couldn’t see. Or maybe the bovines crossed at a red light, because the lead cow’s hoof was too large to push the crosswalk button.

Or maybe a rogue employee absconded with the truck and led police on a high-speed chase through a labyrinth of city streets, barreling down sidewalks and sideswiping fire hydrants. And in his desperation, he flew up an incline, thinking it was a ramp … and launched himself off the freeway and into an electronic billboard, shattering the van into a million metallic shards.

Could happen.

Again, I’m not a sticker for the details, but in this case, the e-mail left me hanging. My journalistic instincts have been dormant for some time (sort of like the journalism industry itself), but they tell me there’s more to the story.

After all, how does one “destroy” a package of nutritional supplements? You could drop it a million times and it wouldn’t hurt the capsules.

And even if the product gets damaged, that rarely prevents delivery. I’ve received plenty of dented boxes that looked like someone had chucked them down a flight of stairs. (I’m all for speedy service, but throwing packages down the stairs isn’t the ideal way to achieve it.)

I even got a magazine in my mailbox one time that had a boot print on it. (Of course, the cover’s headline proclaimed, “U.S. Post Office hemorrhages money; reeks of incompetency.” So there might have been some retaliation involved.)

As to the fate of my doomed delivery, I suppose I’ll never know — which is frustrating. All I can think about is my poor package, decimated by some unknown force, its ashy remains fluttering away in the wind.

In the meantime, though, I did order another bottle of magnesium capsules. Here’s hoping these ones arrive via a destruction-free delivery.

Is there an option for that? Because I’m willing to pay extra for it.

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14 thoughts on “I’ll pay extra extra for destruction-free delivery 

    1. Colane Conundrum Post author

      Well, I’d buy them at the grocery store, but then I somehow always end up with Doritos and doughnuts in my cart. I’m not sure how that happens. I think it’s one of those supermarket gnomes that hides out under the produce displays and sticks things in your cart when you’re knocking on watermelons, trying to pick one.

      They always seem to sneak in Hot Pockets and Pasts Roni, too.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Bun Karyudo

    It is intriguing, isn’t it? I’m hoping it was the car chase option myself. (Having read recently about working conditions at Amazon depots, I think a more likely scenario is a deranged staff member took a mallet to your order.)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Colane Conundrum Post author

      You know, I bet you’re right. And the interesting thing is, magnesium supplements have a calming effect. If only the guy had taken his vitamins, like I was trying to do, this whole ordeal might never have happened! 😄

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Jason

    Perhaps the delivery person developed a sudden and potentially fatal lack of magnesium. In desperation and with just moments to live, he/she tore open the contents of all the packages and was amazed and relieved to find your bottle of pills. Of course once swallowed, they’re not much use to you. But it’s nice to think your humble Amazon order may have saved a life. And perhaps, one day, that delivery person may be able to return the favour..

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Colane Conundrum Post author

      I’ve never considered myself a hero, but you, sir, have helped me see the truth. Had I not dutifully clicked “add to cart” and updated my payment information, that poor shipping clerk might not be alive today. I’ll have to boast about my heroic deeds when I go to leave seller feedback.

      It’s funny — I don’t even mind now that my order didn’t qualify for free shipping.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. In My Cluttered Attic

    Mind you, and this is pure conjecture on my part, but have you considered the possibility that the delivery driver was the target of a heist gone wrong. Let’s say there was some bad information about a delivery truck loaded with some gold and somehow an upstanding blogger looking for some extra cash—no relation—thought he might make a quick score. Not for him of course, but for some poor old retirees living on a fixed income at some retirement community— which shall remain nameless. Now say this blogger (again, with a heart of gold) rounds up some stray bovines (through no fault of his own, perhaps the blogger leaned up against a loose fence post and the cows just escaped), and steered them in the direction of said delivery driver, but the light was red. Well the blogger figured the delivery driver would just put on the breaks—how was the blogger to know that the trucks breaks were bad! Naturally the poor (probably drunk) delivery driver crashed into the lead cow, who just happened to be carrying a torch because it was dark and it couldn’t find the crosswalk button—not that it would have mattered as its hoof was too large to press the button. Well this (well intentioned blogger) couldn’t tell anyone why the accident happened—he might have been implicated! Sorry about the bottle of magnesium capsules, Allen. Oh not that I had anything to do with their loss.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Colane Conundrum Post author

      Ah-ha! Believe it or not, that was actually going to my next guess — word for word. Honest.

      I’m starting to see why Amazon didn’t go into further detail. Not because they were worried about liability, but because they couldn’t keep a straight face.

      “Hey, Boss? How we gonna explain to this guy what happened to his magnesium capsules.”

      “Mmm.” The boss places a fingertip to his chin. “We, ah. We don’t.”

      “We don’t?”

      “We don’t, know. Just tell them they were destroyed, and that’s it.”

      “Oh.” Employee scratches his head. “But isn’t that just going to make him wonder?”

      “Let him wonder,” the boss says. “But if we tell him about the bovine and the gold-hearted blogger … well, there’s no way he would believe it!”

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      1. In My Cluttered Attic

        Yeah, see what I mean! Whose going to believe a story like that, right? But it’s all true, I swear! I mean… well…uh… the way I heard it that is… second hand. It was some guy downtown I think. I’d never met the guy before in my life. He said he’d heard about it from some other guy from uh… uh… ARGENTINA! yeah yeah that’s it…Argentina! But he left the country this morning and won’t be returning to the U.S. anytime soon. I think he got ran over by a Goucho, or something like that, shortly after he arrived on the Pampas. Guess we’ll never really find out who that blogger was. Oh well…

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Colane Conundrum Post author

        You know, there are many ways to tell when somebody’s lying, or at least stretching the truth. They stammer, they flush and sweat, their stories grow larger and grander in scope.

        Paul, I have to ask … did the truck driver exhibit any of these traits when you talked to him?

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      3. In My Cluttered Attic

        Huh…oh yeah…uh all of them, and and and even a few hundred more that you didn’t mention. Thank goodness I’m not like that. Boy is it hot in here or what? But that’s summer for ya. Well, guess I better go change my clothes, the ones I’m wearing are soaking wet. I think it’s a glandular problem.

        Liked by 1 person

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