This is very disappointing. I tried to create a site account for YourOnlineEverythingCheapStore; it bounced me because their software did not recognize our municipality-issued, official 911 street address. There are darned few roads in North Puffin and each one has far fewer than six names. Couriers, common carriers, and fire trucks all have no trouble finding us.
OK, the fire department still needs directions that include “the locust tree we cut in 1976” but everyone else uses the official 911 street address.
I called the EverythingCheap customer service line.
“It’s a computer problem,” Rachel told me. “We use a service to check for delivery addresses.”
I told her I tried my 911 address and every permutation I could think of. “Can you override the system,” I asked.
“No,” she said. “If we can’t guarantee delivery, we can’t enter it into the system.”
Even if I accept responsibility?
“No.”
I asked if that meant YourOnlineEverythingCheapStore didn’t want my business.
“I guess not,” she said.
Maybe they got enough stimulus money that they don’t need a customer like me. Or maybe they just don’t want customers.
Too bad, isn’t it?
Online buying is big business. I ordered some stuff today and had it sent ot my Sister-in-Law’s house because her street is easier to spell. It will come UPS.
US Pony Express mail system frequently delivers my mail to a woman with similar first and surname as that of Mrs Poleczech’s offline name. Our house numbers are the same, and the street name is easily confused if the postal person is in a hurry. UPS never makes that mistake.
One day there was a car accident about a block from my house. The wreck had just happened when I drove up, and the driver of the hittee vehicle asked me to call 911 on my cell because her daughter was faint. I did so — being careful to give the intersection where the accident occurred.
The 911 operator noted that I was on a cell and demanded my name and home address before she would dispatch a unit. I willingly complied, and when I saw that a nurse stopped to attend the young woman, I got in my vehicle and drove to the house. About ten minutes later an EMS unit arrived at my outside gate with a stretcher and all the bag-hanging equipment. They rang the bell and wanted to know where the injured person was.
The inevitable mix-up had occurred.
I pointed to the wreck about 600 feet away and asked them how them missed seeing it. The answer was that they came in “the back way” via their GPS.
(We don’t need no steenkin’ house number)
— George