The Supreme Insult to Me From Jeff Bezos
I found the Kindle store and was salivating to buy a book and see what it was like to read it in this bold new way.
It was not to be.
I ordered “Ike” by Michael Korda for $9.99, a book that I had perused in bookstores and looked interesting.
I awaited my promised 60-second download when a warning box appeared on my screen.
To order a Kindle book, I was told, my Amazon “Buy Now with 1-Click®” account had to be activated. I was told to either go online or call the 800 number.
I should have been told this at the outset. Nobody likes an unpleasant surprise.
At the very moment of consummation—when Jeff Bezos was about to validate my judgment in spending $359 for his “entirely new type of” gadget—he throws a wrench into my gratification.
I was forced to drag my sorry ass up three flights to the office, boot up the computer and beg Amazon.com to allow me to order my first Kindle book.
Coitus interruptus digitalus.
The Supreme Insult From Jeff Bezos
The more I thought about it, the more pissed off I became.
Last month, my wife Peggy was out of town on business and my favorite Mexican restaurant was closed on Monday. I went next door to a new sports bar called Paddywacks and sat down at the empty bar. The bartender eased over, and I ordered a Grey Goose on the rocks, which he promptly poured and brought me. “Do you want to pay for it, or shall I run a tab?” he asked.
“Run a tab.”
“I need a credit card.”
“In order to run a tab, you have to give me a credit card.”
In 54 years of frequenting saloons, no one has ever said anything like that to me. I gave him a $20 bill, finished my drink, took the change on the bar and left, never to return. At age 72, I am not going to stiff a new bar around the corner from my home. Clearly customers of Paddywacks are NOKD (“Not Our Kind, Dear”).