Amazoned Out
I revealed something to a group of friends the other day that they found rather shocking. I don’t use Amazon.
“Well…how?!” one of my friends said, flustered in disbelief.
“I am sure you’ve used it before. Don’t you have Prime?” another friend asked skeptically.
I am not tech averse. I like my SmartWatch and SmartPhone. I can use bluetooth technology and I have heard of the “dark web”. I just also happen not to use Amazon.
This is a choice of course. It isn’t a political choice, like when I decided to only eat fish for a few months. It isn’t because I can only support local small businesses, although I do. I believe that you can live in a world where you make trips to the grocery store, in person, and also order all your Christmas gifts online. I just don’t happen to like Amazon.
“You lie! How you can buy every Christmas gift online but not recognize the value of Amazon?”
It isn’t that I don’t recognize the inherent value of the website and the service. I just don’t happen to find it particularly user friendly. Amazon is overwhelming to me in a way that I find Wal-Mart overwhelming. It’s like when you’re dating someone and they try so hard to be everything you want them to be. It sounds great but they are too accommodating. I can never find anything on Amazon because there is too much stuff. I can’t decide. I need direction. I’m simple.
For example, I was looking for a work journal bound with a black cover. I usually take a trip to the last remaining Barnes and Noble store on Earth and pick one up at the beginning of the new year. This year has been challenging schedule-wise so as I was walking down to Starbucks to pick up my pre-ordered coffee I thought, “Hey! Maybe I’ll give Amazon another try!”
I logged onto my computer and got on the website. I filled the search bar with “Writing Journals”. No less than 5,000 journals popped up. None of them the one I wanted. I started to get drowsy with confusion and decided then to write this article.
What is it that I am missing? I see people with at-home buttons that they push to order paper towels. I have friends who receive box after box of Amazon goodies. Apparently there are amazing Golden Globe winning shows on there too if you’re a “Prime” member. Whatever that is. I am missing out. I know this. I try to assimilate but then I log onto the Amazon website and I just feel like I have taken a tranquilizer. It’s like Amazon induced narcolepsy.
I don’t feel particularly shameful for my lack of participation in Amazon culture. However I am growing concerned as Amazon buys up all of the brick and mortar stores on the planet. At some point I fear that I won’t have access to toilet paper and door knobs and whatever else they sell on Amazon; which is apparently everything, because I haven’t assimilated.
I just can’t be bothered with it. When I go to the store I know what I need. I find it. I purchase it. There aren’t endless options. I hate going to the mall but I will go to the mall every day of the week before I try to use Amazon. It’s like polarized magnets, Amazon and me. Republicans and Democrats. Hillary Supporters and Bernie Bros. Oil and Water. Kellyanne Conway and facts. They just don’t mix.
It is certain that some algorithm that reads Medium stories will ping Jeff Bezos and a troupe of smiling Amazonians will contact me to assist me with my issues. At least it will if Amazon is anyway near as effective as the HRC, if you mildly critique any of their work. One time I said I didn’t like the HRC logo at a parade and I had to fight off their CEO for a week and a half. Amazon is certainly much better organized than the HRC.
And listen, if they do show up and they can help walk me through the ordering process without me falling asleep like a baby in their arms, then more power to them. In the meantime I will have to find some other way to survive.
