Process/Product
Why would I need therapy? I have the internet.
Archive for February 1st, 2009
Sunday, February the 1st, 2009
032 - Hypocrisy Theatre! Part I: Socks
The receptionist at my office dropped the package off at my desk.
“Here you go,” she said.
“Thank you!” I replied.
The cardboard box was emblazoned with the familiar and comforting Amazon logo, and I eagerly tore into it. Thanks to the advent of i-click buying, super saver shipping, and credit cards, Christmas comes 365 times a year for me. My coworkers can attest to the ridiculous amounts of stuff I have bought and had delivered to my office. When I was on vacation in Hawai’i, the boxes piled up in my cubicle, creating an impenetrable wall between my space and my coworkers’.
Just picture a couch cushion fort, except made of clothes, shoes, books, and electronics.
When I don’t use the 1-click, I just instinctively add stuff to my Amazon cart whenever I see something I like. When I see a grouping of items that’s around $25, I’ll order them together with the super saver shipping. Super saver shipping takes a while, and I love surprises, so I purposely keep myself in the dark about when my packages will arrive. When they do, I’m always delighted.
When today’s gift arrived, I had already completely forgotten about its possible contents. To my utmost glee, I slowly took out a pristine, plastic-lined six-pack of black socks.
Like most people, I tend to lose socks in the laundry. I have no shame in buying packs of slightly defective ones from Ross, since shit, they spend most of the time in my awesome shoes anyways, and socks for me have a pretty short lifespan.
It’s like I’m renting them, really.
But this time, after waiting a ridiculously long time to do my laundry, I knew that it was nigh time to re-up and reload. I decided to splurge and spoil myself with new, non-defective socks.
I slowly put on a fresh pair, still warm from the drier. My feet were lovingly caressed by the cotton/nylon blend and the still springy elastic, and I knew few greater pleasures.
