Miracles and more! All made possible by eBay
One might assume that the Internet Marketplace is no place for the wily ways of we AstoriaGirls three. Indeed, the likes of eBay and Amazon go against the very grain of what we represent as a people, not merely because Internet shopping removes the human factor, but because its simply way too easy. Queens girls always do it the hard way. We like it rough and we like it rugged. Furthermore, as our disciples well know, the cult of AstoriaGirldom is hellbent on supporting local businesses, the mom and pop establishments that give our neighborhood its color and pizazz. The true shopping experience is cultural and collaborative, one that brings you out onto to the streets and smack into the lives of others, it involves haggling and bartering, adventuring and above all, it upholds the equilibrium of our local marketplace. Commerce on the worldwide web accomplishes none of these things, in fact, it is a looming menace to many of our favorite haunts, sapping the life from the Lovedays and Sites of our small, urban world. Some say eBay is the eVil eMpire to our army of Astorian Jedi. And while they may be victims of bad Padawanian analogies, for the most part, we AstoriaGirls wholeheartedly agree.
For many shoppers out there looking for a deal, the logic is simple: Why bother schlepping up to Steinway, spend hours poring through racks only to come home sweaty, snarling and empty handed. Nowadays, all you have to do is log on to Google, type in the make, model and price and BINGO, one credit card number later, you're seeing exactly what that Brown can do for you. Which may sound all rough and rugged, but, in reality, is just a nasty hook used to dupe QueensGirls like you and me. But before I go off ranting and raving about the lazy ineptitude of the typical American consumer, let me make a startling admission: Willa K hearts eBay. I heart it so bad it hurts.
eBay is a little like crystal meth, or so I'm told. The whole concept is just seething with enticement. You're curious. You think it might be fun. Eveyone's doing it, and you think, why not? Why not give it a go, just once, just this time, and before you know it, you're sucked into a spiraling vortex never to return again.
Like any hardcore barbiturate, I try to stay far away from the computer when the shopping fever strikes, but there are instances where it comes in handy. Like the time I found out Kara Janx designed a bikini with a tigerface on the crotch, which is probably the most awesome thing ever invented to stamp on the bottom half of a bikini. Suffice it to say, Willa K had to have it. I couldn't quite condone dropping $150 on scrap of lycra, tigercrotch or no, so imagine my glee when I scored it on eBay for a mere forty bucks. I also utilize eBay almost exclusively for technological purchases. When I was robbed in the godforsaken wasteland that is Cleveland, Ohio, I was able to replace my hot pink ipod nano for a mere $60. The thing was brand spanken new too, never out of its box. And it doesn't stop there. Digital Cameras. LeSportSac bags in discontinued Tokidoki "Foresta" print. Hard-to-find Tivoli Radios. Cell phone cases in shocking pink. Vintage pinball playfields. All for a reliable 50% of the original price, and in most cases the shipping was included.
But for every eBay success story, there is always an unfortunate incident that sours the eUphoria of a virtual shopping experience. An eBay overdose, if you will. It usually happens soon after an eBay "win," you know, where you're lolling around in a state of eCstacy, heart pumping with adrenaline, gibbering in an addled state of gigabyte bliss, like you just won the Powerball or American Idol. Or something. I believe the accepted phrase in the Internet lexicon is to be "high on " windorphins" or something demented like that. Not quite as hot as what Brown could do for you, but it gets you there. So you're high on windorphins, and you think, just one more. One more. That's all. And its usually something dumb, like a pair of Hudson jeans you've been coveting the last week and a half, and they happen to be in just your size for a fraction of the retail price. You see the words "Buy it Now" and BAM. You've hit the button without even glancing at the seller's reviews or country of origin. You could be buying from some eleven-year-old Guatemalan packing an AK-47 and you wouldn't even know the difference.
Fast forward eight weeks, and you're still waiting for $55 worth of denim to come through the Canadian Mail. Or even worse, you realize that, in your excitement, you've mistyped the shipping address by one digit, sending your cargo to far off Uzbekistan or something, and even though the seller insists they will re-mail it to you should it ever get returned to sender, you never hear from them again. Then you have to decide whether to file a dispute, which is more or less like declaring nuclear war on the free rePublic of eBay. After weeks of weighing your options, and a solid month of non-contact with this duplicitous faux-Canadian vendor, you make your move. You form an alliance with Paypal, and together launch a passive-aggressive assault via email, which in eBayland is more along the lines of launching the A-bomb. For a moment, you're on top of the world again, you've won the advantage, but just as you're about to shoot off some rocket artillery in celebration, you receive this in your inbox:
i wish you had waited one more day to do that. the package was sent back to me today. i was going to send them to you on my own dime, but it seems you prefer to terminate our business transaction. as you wish.
And then Gerry Butler kicks you down the pit of death.
Blast.
Yeah, I BET you just received them today you crafty, faceless, nebulous eForce. But what can you do? You eat your hand-pecked words, withdraw your claim, offer to pay for UPS and hope they don't douse your Hudsons in Manitoban Caribou pee. Plus you'll probably end up on some Internet blacklist for impatient, inexperienced dopes like yourself. You've been forewarned.
So the question remains: to eBay or not to eBay? It's one for the ages. You can adhere to your rules, check seller ratings, refuse business with those overseas, and maybe you'll come out of it unscathed. Triumphant even. And perhaps you can live with the fact that with every Internet purchase you are robbing your neighbors blind, snatching the food from their babies mouths, the doggy treats from their whimpering pups. Maybe you can swallow the fact that you're sapping the lifeblood from the very place that provides you shelter and food for sub-Manhattan prices. And you know what? Kudos to you. As for me? I prefer to use it for mindless, superficial things that cannot be found in Astoria. eBay, like the Force, is a powerful thing that should be used for good against eVil, corporate conglomerates. Use it to sap the life from the Bergdorfs and Louis Vuittons of this world, not the street fairs and artisans. Leave the little man alone already.
One Love.
WILLA K
