Last Friday I went out to the parking deck to find the car next to me had a flat tire. I always keep a can of that fix-a-flat stuff in my trunk for emergencies, and since this guy clearly needed it more than I did, I left it next to his tire. Par for the course when I do something thoughtful for someone I don’t even know, it unleashed a series of small disasters in my life.

So kids, let this be a lesson. Don’t do nice things. Good does not come around, and if it does, it comes around disguised as a crazy rape monster.

On Monday I arrived at work to a call from the big boss about a package that didn’t arrive at a tradeshow on time. It turned out to be a bigger deal than I would have guessed, and I have “The Tightest Ship in the Shipping Business” to thank:

Dear UPS,

This week I almost lost my job because you failed to do the one thing that you are in the business of doing- shipping a package to a predetermined location on time. I have had my present job for almost six years and have not missed a single deadline, and if ever there was a bad time for me to do so, Monday was it.

Granted I am technically not at fault- a shipping company is not supposed to reschedule delivery dates without notifying the customer, but this is a classic example of why the phrase “It’s not your fault, but it is your problem” was coined.

Before I get too abusive, I’d like to commend your valiant efforts that had the package delivered a mere 48 hours after the intended delivery date; truly heroic on your part, but really, at that point you can just throw it away.

The most awesome way you can start a Monday is by getting a call from the CEO of your company to tell you that you suck because the stuff you shipped is not where he is scheduled to give a presentation that morning. Feeling like the guy who fumbles the ball on the 2 yard line is always good for the old self-esteem. That wasn’t even the best part, either. My boss, (who was blissfully off on the first day of her honeymoon, leaving me and one other person ‘in charge’ of our department) got wind of said debacle and called me as well. Not the most pleasant conversation I have ever had, I assure you.

Now I not only know that my record is no longer flawless (the last source of pride I had left in my dismal life), but my boss’s trip started off with the realization that the people who work for her are probably not capable of doing their jobs. “Have a good time on vacation and try not to worry that your employees can’t even handle putting something in the mail! See you an a couple weeks!”

So thanks again, UPS. You did a lot for me, but I don’t recall asking you to do anything but what we paid you to do.

Perhaps the tagline “What can Brown do for you?” is an indicator that you are sort of over the whole “shipping” gig, and want suggestions for other things you can do.

So I’ll give you the top ten things brown can do for me (assuming that “get a fucking package delivered” is out of the question)-

10. Repair the bits of my reputation that you wrecked
9. Secure the account that ships nickleback CD’s to distribution centers, ensuring that no one will ever have access to that band again.
8. Ditto for anything labeled “Blue collar comedy”
7. Refund the $1200 plane ticket we had to buy to get the backup graphics to the tradeshow
6. Lick my taint until it shines like a new penny
5. Refund a day’s salary that was lost by having someone carry the package to goddamn Detroit
4. Get out of my life and shut up
3. Order a chicken and an egg, shipped UPS, and discover that neither comes first
2. Change your slogan to “Brown is the color of shit, because that’s what we do on you”
1. Get a disease that will kill you in 3 days and have the antidote shipped via UPS 2-day express.

No longer a fan,
-Dusty Scott

It is now Friday, and I got up early to pack my stuff so I can spend the weekend in Chattanooga with my girlfriend. I woke up thinking “Hey, I’m pretty sure the drama set in motion early in the week has more or less blown over and I think I’m still employed. I need to get my stuff together and gear up for a good weekend. Twenty three skidoo!” I don’t know what twenty three skidoo means, but I did say it out loud as I skipped gleefully out the door to throw my bag in my car.

You’ll never guess who had a flat tire.

And no fix-a-flat.

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