lessons learned

You know all those times when I write something about an incident involving Mrs. Pincus and her eBay business and I always add a disclaimer noting that she will not sell your stuff on eBay......? Well, here's why.

A little while ago, Mrs. P acquired a children's play table from one of her many sources. She has an uncanny knack for spotting things that she knows are desirable and will sell quickly. Granted, there are a number of items in her vast inventory that were obtained during the Clinton administration that are still waiting for their chance to be "re-homed," as they say. But, for the most part, Mrs. P will acquire an item and sell it within a reasonable amount of time.

Once a particular item is sold, it has to be packed securely and shipped to its new owner. Most of the items that Mrs. P sells are small enough to fit in a standard square or rectangular box. These are things like books, toys, jewelry and small kitchen gadgets. On the occasion that an item is large and awkward and oddly-shaped — like a children's play table — well, that's when things get a little more involved.  See, Mrs. Pincus acquired this table fully assembled. She knew, when the time came, it would have to be disassembled. Because the table did not come with its original box, a new box would have to be imaginatively created from the stockpile of other boxes that Mrs. P has collected. 

But, first, the disassembly portion...

I am not what you would call a "handyman." I can draw a handyman, but I can barely change a lightbulb or hang a picture. Our household toolbox consists of six or seven screwdrivers in assorted sizes, a hex key set that I think I used once and a couple of hammers — including a small lightweight example that is painted pink. Oh, and the "toolbox" itself is actually a small plastic beach bucket. It may even have Thomas the Tank Engine emblazoned on it. Needless to say, I have no plans to add a deck on to the back of my house or change an air filter in my car by myself. So, when the task of taking apart this children's table arose, I grabbed three of my screwdrivers and excitedly set to work. (That's what we, in the trade, call "sarcasm.")

The table had somewhere between thirty and a million screws holding it together. The object was to get this big, square, three-dimensional table to be as flat as possible. That would involve unscrewing and removing each of those million screws. and stacking up the colorfully-painted slats that formed the table. The first couple of screws came out easily, giving me a false sense of accomplishment. "This will be a snap!," I thought to myself. After quickly removing four screws, the fifth one spun and spun and spun in its little screw hole. If it was capable, I'm sure it would have giggled at me and my efforts to extract it. For the next hour or so, I struggled with these tiny screws. Some came out relatively easily. Others — most of the others — took much more concentration and a fair amount of elbow grease. I kept switching from screw to embedded screw, leaving several partly extracted while I worked on one of its colleagues. Mrs. Pincus suggested borrowing an electric screwdriver from her brother. I haven't spoken to my brother-in-law in nearly ten years and I wouldn't borrow a pint of blood from him if it meant another few hours of my life. As an alternate, my wife suggested asking if my next-door neighbor had an electric screwdriver I could borrow. This is a guy with whom I exchange waves when I arrive home from work. That's hardly the type of relationship that includes the lending out of tools. I waved off both suggestions and — eventually — I got all of the screws removed. The task stretched across two weekends, but after a little sweat, a little resolve and a lot of cursing, success was mine. At least for the first part of the "let's ship this table" project. Now, the thing has to be packed up.

Mrs. P and I toted the table pieces over to her shipping and packing facility just a few blocks from our house. First, we wrapped each piece in plastic and bubble wrap. Then, we measured and stacked and rearranged and fitted those pieces into a double-thick cardboard box that was fashioned — Frankenstein-style — out of pieces of other cardboard boxes. Together, we secured the table pieces into a tight and sturdy package, all held in place with miles of clear packing tape. When we were satisfied that the whole thing was capable of making the trip to the far reaches of North Carolina and would not succumb to the angry and careless hands of the good folks within the Federal Express shipping lanes, the box was hoisted up on the office scale for a final check of weight. The digital display confirmed that our little (well, not so little) parcel was within the "safe" bracket and would not incur additional "oversize" charges. Then it was off to the nearest Fed Ex office.

A few days later, Mrs. P got an email from the happy buyer. The table had arrived safe and sound. She complimented Mrs. Pincus on the stellar packing, noting how each piece was carefully wrapped and secured inside the box. She went on to say how she and her husband were assembling the table where it would provide their young daughter with hours and hours of educational fun... or something like that.

However...

The email concluded with a slight criticism. She scolded Mrs. P for not properly wiping off visible dust and smudges on the table's surface. She noted that there was a slightly sticky residue on the one of the slats. Although it was not visible, she could feel its tackiness when she ran her finger over the particular spot. Before concluding her email, she reiterated her complaints and recommended that — in the future — items be cleaned before shipping. As Mrs. P responded in the most humble and apologetic way possible, I offered a passionate "fuck you" which did not make the final cut of Mrs. P's reply.

Once again, eBay is much more that listing an item for sale then kicking back while the money rolls in. There is a lot of work involved. A. Lot. Of. Work. So... for the last time.... no! Mrs. Pincus will not sell your stuff for you on eBay.

So, stop asking.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com

missing you

Mrs. Pincus has an eBay business… and no! she will not sell your stuff for you. She will, however, happily take your unwanted small boxes, bubble wrap, packing material and padded envelopes. You can either drop these items off on our front porch or she will come to your location (within reason) and pick them up. 

My wife has put the word out for boxes and things on a fairly regular basis. And, on a fairly regular basis, our front porch is overflowing with all shapes and sizes of boxes and such… some that can be used in her business and some that cannot. The things that she has no use for (including newspaper, large boxes and Priority Mail boxes that have gone through the postal system once) are added to our weekly recycling bin and taken to the curb on trash collection day.

While she is grateful for the boxes that people are kind enough to save for her, I am still puzzled by the thing that people thing qualifies as “useable packing material.” Among piles of suitable boxes, we have found empty packages from baked goods with a big cellophane “window” and the bottoms of which are covered with crumbs. We’ve received product boxes from make-up – tiny boxes of flimsy cardboard that once held a tube of lipstick, not more than two inches long. What could we possibly ship in a box like that? We’ve found pieces of Kleenex and crumpled fast-food wrappers. In other words, trash. 

We have also discovered unusual items mixed among a stack of boxes. Things like bags of screws that came with a purchased item to aid in assembly. Sometimes we have found the ordered item itself. We once even found a credit card lying at the bottom of an opened Amazon box. People are very particular about obscuring their home address on a shipping label, but not so concerned with making sure they have removed the item they bought before discarding the box. 

Mrs. P takes the usable boxes to her shipping office, where it will be reused at some point in time. Sometimes, a box or envelope may sit for months – or even years – until it is deemed the perfect vehicle for a particular item’s journey through the delivery process. 

This week, Mrs. P needed to ship a small poster of some sort. She selected a sturdy cardboard mailer that a kind soul donated some time ago. She opened the mailer to secure the purchased item only to find that something was already inside. She reached in and extracted a large diploma from New York University. Shocked, she pulled a similar-sized mailer that was on the shelf, as it was received at the same time. This one contained a diploma from the University of California. The names on the address labels on both mailers had been blackened with marker but the original postmarks were still legible. They read “2018” and “2020” respectively. These envelopes were setting on a shelf for at least three years waiting to be used.

Mrs. P didn’t recognize the names on either diploma. Because the recipient’s name was crossed out, she had no idea who could have dropped this off at our house… three years ago. 

So, she took to the always ready, usually helpful social media, specifically Facebook. Logging in to a group for our immediate neighborhood, she posted the scenario. To combat those who would tell her to just contact the names on the diploma, she added that the names of the graduates may not be the ones who dropped off the envelopes. 

Not too long after her post, she was contacted by the embarrassed mother of the diploma recipients. She said those envelopes must have been gathered up with other, emptier envelopes without even checking the contents. Why weren’t the diplomas framed and hanging on a wall? Why weren’t they missed – one for three years and one for five? Didn’t one of those kids ask where their diploma was? Perhaps a prospective employer didn’t need proof of graduation. 

So many questions. 

We still want your boxes though. Who knows what we’ll find next?

 

www.joshpincusiscrying.com

don't box me in

 * * * DISCLAIMER *  *  * PLEASE READ! * * *
* * * ESPECIALLY IF YOU HAVE GIVEN US BOXES * * *
Let me start off by saying the opinions expressed in this blog post are mine and mine alone. Don't not let my angry rants and annoyed disposition reflect poorly upon anyone with whom I share a household or their comparably friendlier and way more grateful character. These are my feelings and my feelings alone. Also note, that I run the risk of getting myself into some serious trouble by what you are about to read. — JPiC

Yes.

Mrs. Pincus has operated and maintained an eBay business for a very long time — around twenty years. (Before you ask, no, she will not sell your items for you.) She spends a good portion of that time packing and shipping items to customers. Packing and shipping those items requires a lot of packing material and packing material costs money. More than you would think. So, for years, we have saved every box, padded envelope, strip of bubble wrap and Styrofoam packing peanut that we received from our own shipped purchases. Of course, this is not nearly enough to cover the volume of shipped items that Mrs. P's eBay business generates. Corrugated boxes, padded envelopes, bubble wrap and packing peanuts need to be purchased on a regular basis. And like I said, that can get expensive. Always looking for a way to cut expenses, Mrs. P began asking friends and neighbors to save their boxes and packing materials. We would either come and pick them up or they could drop them off — anytime of day or night — on our front porch. This was great. Folks looking for a place to dispose of unwanted or excess boxes, lengths of bubble wrap and loads of Styrofoam peanuts now had a place to dump them. For years now, we would arrive home to be greeted by a porchful of various sizes of boxes and bags with bubble wrap and foam packing peanuts. We were happy and appreciative and all was right with the world.

Yes.

We specifically ask for small boxes, as Mrs. P sells mostly small items and large boxes are of no real use to her. On the off chance that a big box is required for a particular shipment, Mrs. Pincus usually has no trouble finding one. But, small boxes were what we were looking for. We are sincerely grateful for the small boxes, but the large ones are just discarded, chopped up and flattened for inclusion in our weekly recycling. Still, we receive a lot of large boxes. An awful lot of large boxes. Despite putting the word out that we do not need large boxes, we get them anyway.

In addition to the unneeded large boxes, we have discovered a wide variety of things on our front porch that do not remotely fit into the "packing materials" category. Among a large number of packing lists and invoices (that contain loads of personal information), we have also found the items that were originally shipped in these boxes, like makeup, bags of nuts, bolts and screws and other odd and unidentifiable pieces of assemble-it-yourself furniture. Once, we even found a package of unused syringes. Recently, we found a credit card laying at the bottom of a carton under some sheets of bubble wrap. After tracing the name on the card to a shipping label on one of the empty boxes, Mrs. P called the person, only to be told that the card was canceled and we could cut it up and throw it away.

Which brings up another point....

No.

We have found trash dumped on our front porch. Yes, actual trash, like used napkins and tissues, wrappers from candy bars, used paper cups, greasy fast-food restaurant bags, boxes filled with crumbs and shreds of torn shrink wrap. Sometimes, trash is mixed in with a grocery bag filled with newspaper, but oftentimes it's just a bag of someone's trash. Plain old trash that someone is giving to us in the name of benevolence.

Yes, your generosity is greatly appreciated. Yes, it really is. But, come on. We are not the township dump. We just want your small boxes, bubble wrap, Styrofoam packing peanuts and even the result of documents that went through your paper shredder. (No, we're not going to piece together microscopic strips of paper to gets your personal information. We can get that from the invoices you leave in the boxes.) All we ask is that you assess the practicality of what you are leaving on our front porch. Ask yourself: "Is this useful for packing or is this trash?" If it has the remnants of food hanging off of it, it's trash. Please take it down to your curb on your predetermined trash pick-up day.

Mrs. Pincus really appreciates what you do. And, on Trash Collection Day, so do I.

By the way, if this snowman head is yours, you can come and pick it up at my house anytime.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com