Sir Edward Burne-Jones: Perseus and Andromeda,
study for The Doom Fulfilled (1875)

"…probably plead for help from some Insider."

I was always clear that I was not an Insider. I can’t claim to have been deliberately excluded from anything, though it sometimes sure seems as if I must have been. I struggle to get inside. I don’t seem to understand how things work, how they’re classified, or how to gain access. I tried four times yesterday to crack the great mystery of how to order something on Amazon Prime®, only to be thwarted each time. It seemed as if Amazon had forgotten my Pastword, though it arrogantly insisted that I’d forgotten mine. I fool their security, though, by never remembering mine. I have software that remembers PastWords for me, so I can never forget them. Anyway, Amazon proved to be unusable again, as usual. You’d think that if they wanted customers, they would design access to allow even us outsiders inside. They do not.

My toilet seat broke yesterday. The plastic hinge snapped, so I stopped by the HomeDespot to purchase a replacement. It wasn’t until I returned home that I learned about the existence of an elongated toilet. These require different replacement seats than their alternative. A handy diagram on the back of the seat box I’d purchased demonstrated how to determine which kind I have. My toilet yielded an ambiguous measurement, too short to qualify as elongated, so I drove back to the Despot to replace the one I’d innocently purchased. I was careful that time to select a round replacement seat. Once back home, I confidently opened the second box only to learn that the seat inside was too short to fit the toilet. I guess mine was an elongated model after all. I’ll return this second one and ask for help selecting a replacement for the replacement.

Often, I find that even the simpler DIY jobs require obscure Insider knowledge, the kind that’s never mentioned at any point of sale. There must have been three dozen choices of toilet seats, but no clue that they were subtly organized by type, with Elongated and Round options. I assumed I understood the context provided, only to learn later that I’d needed an advanced degree in toilet seat theory to purchase the proper one the first time. The Despot readily accepts returns because they understand their products were designed not to be idiot proof but to prove the purchaser an idiot. The hit to the self-esteem further complicated accomplishing anything. One limps across every freaking finish line when simple Decency might demand a more inclusive and thoughtful display and selection process. How was it that I’d never suspected toilets came in round and elongated designs until just before I was standing in the Despot’s Return line?

My pharmacy has taken to communicating with me via text message. I consequently miss most of their messages, receiving them a few days after they’re sent. I avoid text messaging because the joints in my thumbs were installed backward, producing what’s labeled a Swan Neck Deformity. This means that I can only text using an index finger. It usually takes me five or more attempts to type a coherent response in a text message. I understand that texting was not created for people like me, but we’ve been offered no alternative. I realize that texting might be the easiest alternative for the pharmacy, but what about the customer? Only the Insider finds satisfaction with their solution.

I avoid purchasing anything whenever possible. It’s often an ordeal. I know I should have grown accustomed to the routine abuses commercial transactions force upon me, but I haven’t. Avoidance seems by far the best alternative for people like me. Those of us who find this world ambiguous and are therefore unable to correctly categorize products into recognizable forms are best off avoiding opportunities to engage in commercial activities. I often find myself caught in a paradox, unable to find an exit. Just last night, I was trying to listen to the Mariners’ Game. My MLB app insisted on broadcasting two innings behind what the GameDay app was transmitting, and also differed from what Sirius Satellite was streaming. I spend much of the game hopping back and forth between broadcasts trying to find the current score. I suspect that a secret protocol may have been involved.

I try not to feel deliberately excluded, though I know I have been. Every few weeks or so, I wake up full of myself and attempt to consummate an Amazon Prime® purchase again, only to find a fresh twist I’m unable to successfully navigate. It’s lately started asking questions I cannot parse. Further, it doesn’t seem to offer a space within which to respond. I fiddle aimlessly for a while before deciding that I didn’t really want whatever I had been considering ordering. My work shirts are in tatters after a summer spent painting, but I continue wearing the shreads since the prospect of ever purchasing replacements seems ever more distant. I am a man who remembers how I used to buy things and cannot seem to adapt to my own future. I’ll make a third attempt to purchase that replacement toilet seat later this morning, but I’ll attempt it without relish and probably plead for help from some Insider.

©2025 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #Decency, #PureSchmaltz