I wish I never would've lost my digital camera battery charger.
It started out simple enough: “Oops, I left it in the wall somewhere.” Based on previous drunken incidents involving beer bottles, bullets, and gaping holes from fists, I figured, “Ah well, things that go in walls usually stay in walls.” So the search was delayed while I continued taking pictures and shutting off the camera immediately to preserve what little juice remained.
Of course, any good detective knows that time is of the essence when attempting to solve a mystery. Ever have that feeling that the longer you can go without using an inanimate object because it's “lost,” the more you're sure it probably grew legs and is currently crossing state borders? Seasoned private investigators will tell you that is true.
So by the time the battery actually went completely dead and I decided to embark on a massive electronichunt, all hope was lost. Plasticprints had been wiped clean, all electricity had been discharged, and the only evidence remaining was The Fugitive in my DVD player, paused in the middle of the train wreck escape scene.
The third phase in losing something is denial. Deep down you know you'll never find it, but you refuse to buy a new one because you're sure it will turn up somewhere. I went through denial for almost three weeks, including this past weekend in Tampa. Of course, denial is detrimental because the opportunity cost of not having what you need for a prolonged period of time almost always outweighs the actual cost of purchasing a new thing immediately upon acceptance of loss. Point in case: I probably would've paid $30 to have the last three weeks of my life documented on camera like I usually do (it's a memory loss thing). Whereas a new camera charger probably costs between $10 and $20.
Like death, the fourth phase of loss is acceptance. First I called Office Depot to see if they had a battery charger because I can walk there. But something told me that was silly since a camera battery charger is not an office supply, so I hung up at “Office Depot how may I–” Then I changed my mind again because one time I asked Home Depot if they carried boxes and two employees told me “no,” when in fact there was an entire aisle dedicated to them (thanks to that experience, I now realize that there really is no such thing as a dumb question). My instincts were right again though: no camera chargers.
Next I called Circuit City. Nothing says “battery charger” like “circuit city.”
“Hi, I'd like to find out if you carry a battery charger for my Canon SD-110 camera.”
“Hmmm, not too sure, let me check. *1 minute later* No, not specifically, but we do have a universal charger for all types of digital video and camera equipment.”
“What is it for exactly and how much does it cost?”
“Well it's $49.95 and it's for umm…you know, I don't think it's for a digital camera. You wouldn't believe how many times I get asked this same question every day.”
And once again, retail store employees prove they are not only unknowledgeable, but completely retarded. IF YOU GET ASKED THIS QUESTION EVERY DAY, WOULDN'T YOU KNOW THE FUCKING ANSWER BY NOW??
It was time to turn to our best friend: the internet. First I went directly to the source: the Canon website. Naturally, it was easy to find my exact digital camera battery charger, but in order to take advantage of this convenience, I would have to give up my wallet's dignity in the form of $55 + shipping, handled by the all-too-convenient and once again enormously expensive FedEx at the insulting cost of $11.95.
For a moment I was lost. Then a strange thing happened. I remembered that eBay television commercial with the guy dancing around saying “You can get it on eeeeBay.” (I'm so glad marketing still works or I wouldn't have a job.)
Now, I've written about eBay before (back in 2001), to make fun of the way it became a marketplace of dumbasses due to the fact that even people who don't know how to use a computer suddenly felt comfortable using eBay. But this is 2006. Give anything on the internet five years and it grows up fast. Faster than puppies catch up to a middle-aged man in dog years. Ebay is now so complex that the average seller is not a person sitting in his boxers sifting through last month's garage sale to give things one last shot online. No, the average seller now is a person who bought a “How to Make a Living on eBay” book/DVD from a late-night infomercial and just achieved “Power Seller” status on his feedback. This person probably employs 3-5 high schoolers just to help ship items out of his house in the afternoons.
And this, ladies and gentleman, is the person who will replace my Canon SD-110 digital camera battery charger, at the ridiculously low price of $3.50 + $6.99 shipping.
But wait, there' s more.
Ebay used to be relatively simple to use and checkout in a hurry. Now, even for a $10 transaction, I had to jump through a million hoops just to pay by PayPal, now integrated with this Power Seller's merchant website. I typed in no less than 3 different passwords (eBay, PayPal, eBay again), entered my shipping and billing address no less than 4 times, and received no less than 7 confirmation emails in the process. I've never yearned for the simplicity of a bowl of Neopolitan ice cream more than at the end of this transaction.
And yet, there's still more.
I came back to my email one more time to find out that, as a result of this transaction, I now have a certified Liberty Mutual bond, a liability contract, and an attorney. All this for the low, low price of THREE DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS.
Don't believe me? See for yourself (PDF).
Have any more questions? Talk to my lawyer: Jeffrey E. Grass, Esq.
Now get that camera out of my face or I'll sue you.