Well, there goes my fairytale: The giant just ate Prince Charming.
For years now, I’ve had the perfect Secret Lover: A suitor who, when summoned, arrived at my doorstep almost instantaneously, while I was still dizzy with lust and anticipation, leaving only at my behest—discreetly and without complaint.
Yes, I’m talking about Zappos, with its endless online supply of glass slippers in every size, shape and price-point. What woman couldn’t fall deliriously in love? Zappos has been a paramour without peer: One who exists only to serve and flatter me; one who always apologizes, even when I’m clearly the one in the wrong. Zappos humors my moods, indulges my whims, silently endures my procrastination and never resorts to sarcasm (like, “Buy a surfboard and leave us alone, Bigfoot.”)
But then came the news that Amazon, that faceless, auto-reply behemoth of an order-botching bookseller, was buying my beloved. Sure, I could petition the SEC, mount a grassroots revolution, embark on a YouTube-d barefoot trek across America in protest. Or I could mourn the end of this grand affair in more appropriate fashion.
Anyone know if Ben & Jerry’s ships Cherry Garcia for free??