Cowboy up

Here’s a funny little story that has taken a few months to unfold.

Back when I was newly diagnosed, I got an e-mail from a dyke I don’t really know. I mean, we have been on a bunch of e-mail lists together over the years and we certainly know folks who have seen each of us in the flesh, but we have never met.
Anyway, said dyke e-mailed me and she said she felt awful that I was sick and she offered to buy me a t-shirt.
Now, having never met, there was no way for her to know how much I like a good t-shirt or what a push-over I am when it comes to certain marketing.
It was the perfect thing to offer. I was delighted and more than a bit touched, particularly since we didn’t really know each other.
I spent a chunk of time amusing myself at some of my favorite websites, looking at what I might like, narrowing my selection… it was great.
Ultimately, I picked a t-shirt that I had seen a friend of mine wear. It is a black t-shirt that says “Cowboy Up”, just like that logo at the top of this entry.
The term “cowboy up” means to suck it up in times of adversity.
After all my long hours of figuring and searching, it seemed like the perfect choice for the current situation. So, I e-mailed my friend and told her and she put the wheels in motion.
Or she tried, but when she went to order the shirt, it turns out that the distributor that I had connected her up with didn’t have a secure site for their credit card orders so she had to arrange to order the t-shirt over the phone.
It’s bizarre to me that they wouldn’t have a secure site, but it’s true.
So, the order was placed and then it was just a matter of time and I would be all stylishly dressed for my next chemo treatment.

Oh… an important detail in the story telling here… I had arranged to have the package shipped to Seattle, to my friend H’s place, because the last time I had something shipped from America, there was an extra $40 brokerage fee on top of the regular fee and the shipping and the duty, so the package I received, a t-shirt as a matter of fact, was extremely expensive by the time I got it on my body. Hoping to avoid that situation, I arranged to have the t-shirt shipped to H’s place and then another old friend who is travelling back and forth to Seattle a whole bunch said she would bring it up for me.
It should all have been extremely easy.

A bunch of time passed and no t-shirt, no t-shirt, no t-shirt, and then I hear that there is a package on the way, and I am pretty happy about that.
L drops by my place on her way home from work, she is looking a bit concerned and a bit amused and says she hopes I am not disappointed.
Off she tears and when I open the package there is no t-shirt, but there are 2 cowboy hats, from the Coor’s Rodeo, and 2 Coor’s belt buckles.
Oh… that’s odd.
I have no idea why I have these cowboy hats and belt buckles, but they do seem to fit the g-f and I and that part is okay.
I send an e-mail to V and let her know that a strange thing has happened, and I have no idea whether it is related to the t-shirt shipment or not, but…. well, I just don’t know. I wasn’t expecting any other packages, so I think perhaps there may have been a mistake somewhere along the way.
V gets on the phone and it turns out that, yes, the cowboy hats and belt buckles have been sent in error. It seems that they got the packing labels mixed up on my package. Someone hoping for a couple of cowboy hats got my t-shirt and vice versa.
V gives them a good blast and tells them they have to correct the problem and no, we will not be shipping the hats back because it is a total hassle with borders and duty and all that so they can just fix it and take the loss.
I was impressed.
And settled back to waiting.
So, a week or so ago I got the word that a package had arrived in Seattle for me.
I was doing some mental calculations about when I might take possesion of my long anticipated shirt.
L went down to Seattle and did the weekend thing and came home.
I got some e-mail from all the key players in the drama asking ‘well, was it worth the wait?’ but I hadn’t yet received the t-shirt.
And then I got an e-mail from L.
The e-mail said her car had been broken into the night before and, along with a bunch of her stuff, my t-shirt had been stolen.

So, that’s the story of the t-shirt so far.

I am thinking of getting a new shirt to celebrate the end of chemo.

I think it should look like this:

I may just do the old fashioned retail approach to getting that shirt.
That may be how I do it.

That said, I do want to thank everyone who has tried so hard to get me that damn t-shirt.
Could it get more complicated?
Damn.
Thanks for trying, everyone.

And for folks following this saga from the beginning, you may recall that in one of our early episodes, the door of my truck suffered a compound fracture because of an unfortunate impact from Elaine’s (then) van.
This would be auto trouble #1 of 04, followed shortly by the pinching of the van (auto trouble #2 of 04).
Anyway, I am delighted to say that my truck door has been fixed up by my mechanic and former co-worker, Brain and I no longer have to squeeze past my gear shift like a Dukes of Hazzard loser.

Hooray!