Where have all the cowboys card stores gone?
Are there any card stores left in the world? I’m not talking about the supermarket aisles or the Wal-Mart hells, which are crawling with millions of little kids, that don’t properly allow you to quietly sob in the sanctity of an honest-to-goodness haven for syrupy messages and women with a fistful of tissues who need a box of Tampax and a case of Haagen-Dazs and a roll of stamps to overcome the experience.
I went to my last-known card store in Alexandria the other day, and *poof* it was gone! So, sorry to those of y’all with May birthdays — no soup card for you because I can’t FIND any! I mean, has the universe been so altered by the era of the e-card that we no longer buy the real deal? Are we that pissed off that ever card Hallmark seems to make anymore requires extra postage?
I’m sad to see the card stores evaporating from existence. Really, I am. I am one of those fools who cries at Hallmark commercials and who allocates no less than an hour when I need to pick out the most special card for the most special persons. It’s not just an obligation to find the right card — it’s an odyssey.
And this is a message for men — I was talking to someone the other day who was just struggling with what to get his (snotty) wife for Mother’s Day. He’s such a good guy and he was trying so ridiculously hard to please her (I don’t think even a trip to Paris could please this woman, but I digress). And while I’m a gal who would never say no to a well-thought-out gift, there’s always something special about the card (even if there isn’t money in it. Hah!). Like, someone had to actually walk into a card store WITH YOU ON HIS OR HER MIND. Then he or she had to stand there and THINK ABOUT YOU SOME MORE. Then they actually have to write something in the card that tells you how special you are.
For me, I’ve always practically re-written any greeting card I could find — my Mother’s Day card to my mom had more of my ink in it than what the thing came with. (It needed to make up for the fact that her gift is still on its way to me, thank you UPS, you motherfuckers.)
Let me just say this: UPS’ signature color couldn’t have been more appropriately picked — BROWN. I placed an order several weeks ago with a company that only uses UPS. And believe me, it will be the next-to-last order I ever place with them unless they start using carrier pigeons or burros with backpacks — anything that’s faster and more efficient than the BROWN gang. Apparently they decided I was going to retrive a package from them when I asked them to redeliver it elsewhere. But they’d called to tell me they were going to keep sending it to my home. And my telepathic waves could not provide me with the information that I was to pick it up before they shipped it back to the sender. But could I get it re-routed? Nope — not without the sender’s approval. Which, ask me if the sender has bothered to intervene on my behalf, even though I requested it. Of course not. I told UPS that I am ready to drive to fucking Richmond, where the package was yesterday, and get the goddamned thing myself, despite the insane amount the sender charged me for shipping.
Oh well, it’s Friday the 13th — typically a good day in my existence. I will get good news about this, damn it. I have to. And to cop a card store slogan, “When you care enough to send the very best.” In this case, if I don’t get sufficient resolution in this dilemma, I will care enough to wear my very best stiletto heels … and will lodge them in someone’s temple if I must.
Does EVERYTHING have to be a production? No wonder we rely on the Internet so much and are factoring out more and more humans — life is so much easier without IDIOTS!
On iTunes: Sheila Nicholls, “Elevator”
May 15th, 2005 at 11:33 AM
If the company you’re referring to is, uh, Corporate, you do have the option of FedEx. It’s in the drop-down box when you’re selecting what kind of shipping you want.