Yes, I’m still trying.
I needed the UPS to come by my front door, so I ordered two GB of RAM from Newegg. I’m sure I’ll find a use for it later. It was due to come in yesterday, but I know the UPS, and they know me. They want to be unpredictable, so they delivered it today. But I was expecting this, you see.
So I waited for the UPS man to come to my door. He rang the doorbell, and was instantly put out by 10,000 volts of electricity. I snatched my 2GB of RAM from him, and ran inside. Then I hear the
doorbell again. I grab my UPS tranquilizer and approach slowly…
Meanwhile, in real life, the UPS man rings the doorbell, and I manage to open the door before he scurries away to his cozy little truck.
He stopped in his tracks, turned around, and said…
- “How may I help you sir?”
- “Where can I get UPS socks?”
- “Uh… Uh… Here!”
With a sweaty hand he shoved a brown and yellow piece of paper at me with the company’s 1-800 number on it.
- “The 800 number’s on there. Take it! TAKE IT AND DON’T TELL ANYONE!!!”
- “Okay, thanks!”
He bolted to his truck and floored it. He wasn’t expecting anything good to come of this.
I picked up my 2GB of RAM off the ground and retreated inside where the UPS spy satellites can’t see me and called the 1-800 number. The woman who answered was not a woman at all but a robot. I had the feeling that she was about to send her toaster boyfriend to fry me if I didn’t give her a tracking number or just hang up.
- ” Tracking number?”
- “That is not a valid tracking number. Please try again or be fried by my laser satellite girlfriends, who are practicing their aim at your dog.”
As my dog was being fried Chicago-style outside, I frantically looked around. Poor little Abby was about well done when I said…
- “42!”
- “That order was placed back before I was just a KitchenAid food processor, you dumb-ass carbon life-form. If you want to speak to another pathetic human, then please say so now in your stupid ambiguous human language.”
- “Yes, please!”
I was forwarded to an actual woman this time. She sounded like a drill sargeant in boot camp.
- “SIR! THANK YOU FOR CALLING UPS SIR! HOW MAY I HELP YOU SIR!”
- “Yeah, hi, I was wondering if I could get UPS merchandise anywhere?”
- “WHAT KIND OF MERCHANDISE SIR!”
- “Well I saw a man driving a UPS truck the other day, and I noticed he was wearing these nice UPS socks. Where can I get socks like that?”
- “SIR! I DON’T KNOW IF THEY ARE OR ARE NOT SELLING SUCH MERCHANDISE, SIR!, OR IF THEY ARE WHETHER OR NOT THEY ARE SELLING IT TO CUSTOMERS, SIR! SORRY SIR!”
- “Okay, thanks, goodbye.”
- “SIR! HAVE A NICE DAY SIR!”
She was scary. But this does confirm three suspicions that I’ve had about UPS.
- They are indeed in cahoots with the military, making this a national conspiracy
- Not all of the employees are aware of who they truly work for, but some of them know something…
- These socks must contain some kind of superweapon. I must have them!
I don’t want eBay socks or CraigsList socks. I want UPS socks. Get them anywhere else, and they’ve probably already been decommissioned. I need to get them from the source, before it’s too late.
Tags: UPS socks, Military, Politics, Abstract, Religion, My Life // 1 Comment »
