Longtime readers might recall when my Xbox 360 died back in December. I wrote what might be the least dramatic moment-by-moment retelling of a death in human history. Over a month later, I wrote a follow-up blog post about the absolutely insane events that followed.
The short version is as follows:
1. The Xbox died in early December.
2. I shipped it a few days later.
3. Microsoft's Xbox repair site noted they received the console.
4. I heard nothing for a month.
5. A long series of phone calls ended with someone asking me if I mailed them shoes.
I meant to write an update after everything got sorted out, but I was ready to forget the entire affair. Following the advice of one of our readers, I emailed Microsoft's customer advocate. He called me the same day, and I explained to him the entire chain of events. He was extremely helpful, and within the next week, I had a replacement Xbox 360.
That should have been the end of this story, but alas, fate had a different idea.
On Wednesday, I noticed a large package at the door. I grabbed it off the step and brought it inside. It was marked as being from Macy's. I set it aside, assuming that it wasn't mine. The box was totally beaten to hell, and UPS had wrapped it in a plastic bag to protect the contents. On a second inspection, I noticed something confounding: my name was on the shipping label.
I promptly set the box on the table and split it open. This is the image that greeted me:
Shoes.
Two pairs of leather UGG slippers (size 8) and a pair of UGG women's leather boots. Of course, I was surprised. I certainly wouldn't order any of the above, nor could I wear them. Then, I had the flashback. "Did you ship us shoes?"
It was like a nightmare echoing in the back of my head. A thorough examination of the box provided additional clues. There was a Macy's return/exchange slip taped to one of the boxes. Scrawled across it was a request for Size 9 replacements. After removing the packing label that caused this infernal vessel to come to a rest at my shores, I found the truth. The very same label I had brought to the UPS Store, along side the box that contained the corpse of a once functional Xbox 360, was plastered on this carton. Having printed my shipping label on normal paper, I was relying on the UPS associate to attach the label I presented him to my container. Alas, it would seem I was not alone in this folly. If this woman's shoes ended up at the Microsoft repair center, it is not unreasonable to assume that Macy's at some point received a broken Xbox.
I concluded above all else the need to unload this phantom cargo. I looked up the name on the return slip in the phonebook, and with great luck I found the exact name/address combination I discovered on the third layer of shipping labels. I called the number, but, as would have to happen with such a seemingly impossible story, she wasn't there. Not only that, it seems she moved. The person I got did not recognize her name.
My best bet now was to contact the origin of this infernal payload. Of course, none of the documents in the box contained a phone number for Macy's. Instead, I called one of the local Macy's stores. I was hopeful they would let me drop this box off.
I was connected with a corporate call center, and after much research, the woman whom I spoke with found the offending order. She informed me it had initially been filled in November of 2009, and the customer had filed to exchange it in early December. The shoes never showed, so the customer was awarded a refund. I'm now certain, these shoes are cursed.
Now, I'm waiting for Macy's to send me a shipping label with which I will divest myself of this phantom footwear.
Mind you, these shoes must have been shipped the same day as my Xbox. I know I mailed the Xbox on December 5, 2009. That means these shoes were in limbo for 263 days before they washed up on my steps.
I ask that you all pray that this is the end of my odyssey.
I would like to point out the following quote from the first blog post:
"It landed in the mail Friday. UPS Stores are predictably a bit chaotic at this time of year, but it wasn't particularly harrowing."
Oh, what a fool I was.
