Waiting for the UPS Guy

While Tom is mixing up his holidays and there are memorials all across DC I’m home doing my own MLK Day vigil.

While not as significant as anything related to Dr. King, I know it’s a vigil that you can personally relate to. I’m doing the UPS Guy vigil. Yes, I am an American consumer, I shop online, and therefore I am beholden to Mr. UPS and Mr. FedEx for my goodies.

Usually I have them sent to work, where the office secretary gives me a shout-out when my loot arrives, but recently online merchants that specialize in electronics, my weakness, have started shipping only to the address associated with your credit card. This means I have to do a timing dance with the building manager of my apartment, timing my departures or arrivals to her inconvenient 8-5 office hours. Who is home at those times, I ask you? But I digress.

Because she has the day off, and my smoking hot grapics card is on a UPS truck somewhere in DC, I’m home awaiting the UPS Guy. If I miss him, he’ll deliver it tomorrow to the building manager and it will be Wednesday morning before I can grab he card from her and Wednesday night before I can break the seal on Age of Empires III, and GTA San Andreas, among other graphic-intensive games Santa brought this Xmas.

So here I wait, looking out my window every few minutes, hoping to catch him in action. Hoping to see that brown truck pull up, stop, and out jump the man with the part in the box dear to my heart. Hoping also to be free of the wait, to get outside today, once at least, and enjoy my day off.

Mid-post update: As I am writing this I saw a UPS truck pull up to the intersection in front of my apartment building, and then keep going. Agh! What a way to teas a man. Mr. UPS Guy, where are you? My mouse trigger finger is getting twitchy with rendered pixel withdrawals!

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Married, mortgaged, and soon to be a father, Wayan Vota is in the fast lane to mid-life respectability – until the day his brood finds his intimate journal of global traveling and curses him with the ever-eternal reply “I’m gonna be just like you, Dad!”

Comments are closed.