A Road Less Travelled

 My father’s birthday was just over a week ago. In a devoloping tradition of mine, he did not recieve his present yesterday. While some traditions are rather charming and ought to be upheld, such as my attempt to open the locked door every time I start to to leave the Ben-Ezra’s house, the late birthday present tradition is one I am attempting to break.

I was noting the approach of my father’s birthday, I really was. While I was cutting it rather close, I still had time to go purchase his present, wrap it, and send it off. Then I saw it. While repeatedly browsing the Cold Steel catalogue and drooling (figuratively speaking) over various sharp, pointy objects, I ran across a walking stick. This walking stick having no sharp pointy bits, could be carried anywhere, but would be excellent for thwacking people. This would be my father’s birthday present.

Theresa and I decided to go together on this purchase, and as the time was getting short, have it shipped directly to my father. The difficulty was that first time credit card purchasers could only have their purchase shipped to their own address, as a protection against use of stolen credit cards. This was slightly inconvenient, but all made good sense. Along similar lines, orders paid for by check would be held up for ten days while the check cleared. This was no good, as there was no time for such dilly-dallying. We chose to pay by money order, on the theory that we might actually go out and purchase a money order with less delay than the other options would cause.

Indeed, within a few days we had purchased the money order, with almost enough time left to believe that the gift would arrive in time. Perhaps it would only be a day or two late. Then we noticed the fatal flaw. Our money order had been purchased for five cents less than the total cost of the order.

With our plans in complete disarray–which is to say at about normal status for us–and Theresa and James leaving within a day on a trip to Maine, we discussed solutions. Finally, we hit upon it. The plan which was our last chance of success, our only remaining course, was to write a check for the remaining five cents and enclose a note begging clemency. We would urge them to put these five cents on the line, to risk this loss of several cents profit, and indeed ship the order before the check had cleared. Our only cause to put forth was the risk of late arrival of this present, and though their hard hearts might not be moved by our entreaties, it was the best we could do.

This plan almost unraveled when Theresa had to leave before she had a chance to write the check, but then a dim memory surfaced. I’d recieved five free checks when I opened my checking account and could write the check myself. (Note to self: Order checks already! What are you waiting for, neon signs?) After they left, I discovered that I’d misplaced my checks.

This delayed the mailing of the order for another day while we tried to figure out what to do. In the end I turned to my dear friend Gabrielle, and begged her to grant me the boon of a check made out for five cents. After some confusion and then amusement as I explained the predicament, she gladly complied.

With money order, check, and explanatory note enclosed, I finally sent off the order, which as I said, arrived only one week late. I would start planning now to break the late-present tradition, but unfortunately, I have no ideas on how to prevent such a chain of events. Until everyone starts taking PayPal or I develop a credit rating, I am lost in the misty and convoluted world of money orders and complicated bookkeeping between me and James and Theresa on who owes money to whom. Note to self: Order checks!!!