Carry On Up The Amazon

On Monday I ordered a new MacBook from Amazon with the promise of next day delivery. Seventy two hours later it hasn’t arrived, despite repeated promises of "it’ll be with you soon", "honestly we’re not shitting you" and "believe us, Donald Trump is a good guy really". I’ve now decided that supersonic bacon is more likely to travel the Atlantic than this promise being fulfilled. I gave the chatbot a nervous breakdown and went through three levels of (allegedly) human assistants who offered me initially £10 worthy of goodwill which got escalated to £30 and eventually hit the dizzy heights of £50 (which they curtly said was their last and final offer).  But as of 8.35pm the bloody thing has not arrived despite my claims that the lack of a laptop was decimating my career as an internet influencer and preventing me from penning that great novel that we all have inside of us. And the £50, like the merchandise, seems to fall into the category of a preserve of the future rather than something I can enjoy today.

I confess I did become contrivedly agitated. I broke down, sobbed that the world’s richest man was persecuting me, claimed that my life was ruined and that my lockdown isolation was complete due to the absence of this item of technology. I briefly became slightly high with the excitement of this escalating duel, even enjoyed the combat of online shopping.

 But the high was short lived. I am no further forward and Jeff Besoz is still king of the jungle...

Postscript:


It hadn’t turned up come bedtime so I contacted the evil empire and got a refund. Then I found the same item on John Lewis £250 cheaper, collection on Saturday afternoon. I may not be king of the jungle and may have to wait another 48 hours but at least I can celebrate a small victory.