The Internet has been taking it on the chin lately.
Surrendering private personal information. Promulgating real fake news. Influencing,
it could not implausibly turn out, the outcome of the last presidential
election.
And now this. The most egregious outrage of them all.
Because it is happening to me. Anything that happens to
me automatically steps to the front of the “Are you kidding me?” line, dropping
influencing the outcome of the last presidential election to “Second Position”
where it appropriately belongs. (Mrs.
Clinton’s list may, understandably, differ.
She is, of course, entitled to
her opinions. Although how far did those
get her?)
What is this heinous and unpardonable affront I have been brutally
forced to endure? It is simply – and unnervingly
– this.
Subsequent to a recent Internet transaction,
People are sending me boxes of “Health Bars” that I did not
ask for.
It could be even worse.
They could actually be candy
bars.
An affront lacking the ameliorating benefits of health bars.
Although still grievous, in the way they have been foisted upon me
against my will. (Is there really any
other kind of foisting?)
Who are these pernicious perpetrators of my terrible affliction? They are the manufacturers of Kind Healthy Snacks. (Gluten free.
Dairy free. 0g trans fat, “Og”
meaning “Zero grams”, not “Og”, in case you were not certain. That
sounds healthy, doesn’t it? No
“genetically engineered ingredients” either.
Oh happy day!)
(The packaging the bars come in says, “do the kind thing for
your body, your taste buds & your world”
You’ll notice they do not unnecessarily stir things up with screaming
capitals or jarring periods. The words
just “kindly” roll out.)
Having sampled and enjoyed the “Kind dark chocolate, nuts and sea salt” bars, I decided that, rather
than purchasing them piecemeal at the local convenience store – at unkind markups – I would instead order
them, in bulk.
Online. *
(* With suitable ominous musical accompaniment.)
(Note: Doing anything online is problematic for
me. So I readily admit the possibility
of “Pilot Error” in the exercise leading to this blogatorial tirade. Albeit a benign
blogatorial tirade, as I am substantially fortified with Kind Healthy Snacks.)
Okay, off we go.
I find the website. I
fill out what you are required to fill out, including revealing my credit card
number, which seems like an invitation for strangers to use it to buy things
for themselves. George Costanza fought
tenaciously to protect his bank, security PIN code. (“Bosco.”)
Here I am, effectively giving
mine away.
(HELPLESSLY RESIGNED) “Hey… buy whatever you want.”
I order one box, containing twelve dark chocolate, nuts and
sea salt Kind bars. I click “PLACE YOUR ORDER”, and that’s it.
A few days later, a box of Kind Health Snacks is delivered to me in the mail. Or some other way. I mean, I do not stand guard out there, watching
for who exactly is bringing things to the house. I see a box with my name on it, I take it
inside. I don’t even check if it’s ticking.
Okay. I now have
twelve Kind healthy snacks at my
disposal. I try to sensibly ration my
intake. Sometimes, I succeed. Sometimes, even the box, hearing my
approaching footsteps, goes, “Again?”
Otherwise, life is beautiful.
A month, or so – I did not precisely monitor the chronology
– later,
I get another delivery of Kind dark chocolate, nuts and sea salt healthy snacks.
Totally unsolicited. (I
am pretty sure.) The “Request Order”
asked, “How many boxes?” and I had clicked “1.”
But I had received 2.
I don’t know, maybe I should have done something. Sent them
back, who knows? (And who knows how?) I was actually getting tired of those healthy snacks.
And, to be honest, I was a little startled that they were 200 calories. My recollection was that they were 140. That is sixty times twelve more calories than
I had anticipated. The button and
buttonhole fastening my pants were drifting further and further apart.
The Law of Unintentional Consequences: They make a clerical mistake at the factory,
and three thousand miles away, a man gains three-and-a-half pounds.
Okay, fine. It’s
over. “Case Closed.”
Or so I thought.
Again a month or so later, I receive a third box of Kind dark
chocolate nuts and sea salt Healthy Snacks.
I’m, like, “What the heck
is going on?”
Two boxes of unrequested healthy snacks. I mean, how kind can you be?
Was it my
mistake? Was it their
mistake? Had I inadvertently won some healthy
snack Publishers Clearinghouse lottery,
where I would receive a monthly allotment of dark chocolate, nuts and sea salt
bars for the rest of my life? Or was
there a regular “kindco inc” charge I
had neglected to pick up on my credit card bill? Because I do not peruse my credit card bill. For me, it’s like, “That seems about right”, and I write a check.
Caught in the eye of this roiling hurricane of candy – or possibly
nutritional supplements – I began to wonder, “How long can this go on?”
I see my loved ones, returning home from my funeral, the
mail and the newspaper, scattered mournfully on the porch. And there beside them, yet another box of Kind dark chocolate, nuts and sea salt
bars, totally oblivious to my altered physical condition. (“Healthy snacks”, my ass. I ate them and I’m dead!)
That’s what can happen when you order on the Internet –
boxes of healthy Kind bars, for of
eternity.
And yet, online shopping is convenient and less
expensive. So I do it.
I recently ordered a pair of shoes on the Internet.
I dread I may have possibly – accidentally or otherwise –
joined the “Loafers of the Month Club.”
Maybe I am better off going to the store.
You don't state the retailer. Amazon to my certain knowledge offers the option of "subscribing" to some products (usually food). If you bought the bars from there, you may have unintentionally clicked on subscribing instead of just buying one. There should be a facility to cancel it. Probably other retailers offer similar facilities.
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