Epic fail, perhaps...but can I get an "A" for effort?

When I was in college, back in the...ahem..."olden days"...the process of obtaining one's textbooks each semester was arduous, time-consuming, and frankly, a downright pain in the...patootie. I mean, this was pre-cellphone, and before computers took over the world. (Yep, I TOLD you it'd been a hot minute!)

Therefore, the steps involved (as well as I can recall, after all these years): attending the first session of all the classes you were taking in order to collect the syllabi, then writing down the volumes required by each professor on an actual sheet of paper. (Right? Dark. Ages.) Next, you'd carry that order form to the physical bookstore on campus...where you'd stand in line with dozens or even hundreds of other students, for however long it freakin' took, until you reached the front, handed off your request, and received back a stack of materials. Ay yi yi. Suffice it to say that these do NOT represent fond memories for me of my post-secondary educational journey.

These days, of course, the situation is vastly different....which you'd imagine would also be a huge improvement, given the benefits of electronic communication, and the Internet, and whatnot. Well, I'm here to tell you that it's not that simple (or maybe, this being only our second stab at this thing, we're still somewhere on the learning curve. I'll let you be the judge...).

You see, one thing that unfortunately hasn't changed since way back when is the outlandish prices they charge for textbooks. Sure, there are now more options than there used to be...in theory, at least. But although the choices abound--such as "new" vs "used" tomes, ebooks, looseleaf versions, and rent-rather-than-purchase--some courses still demand nothing other than the most recent edition, which only exists in the "just-published, as expensive as possible" incarnation. As a parent footing the bill, it's absolutely maddening, I tell ya...

So, how do you handle this? Why, you check your beloved son's online booklist, note the (ridiculous) cost of each text, then do some comparison shopping to see if you can come up with a way to save a few bucks here and there, naturally! This seemed like a no-brainer, especially when we immediately scored a deal on Amazon, for his Calculus monstrosity. From there, however, the whole thing became somewhat...murkier. Because the other volumes he needed didn't seem to be available anywhere other than what appeared to be a consolidator-type website, which was unfamiliar to us, and thus felt...a wee bit risky.

But hey, we're nothing if not daring and adventurous (or, you know, "reckless and foolish", but whatever...), so we took a chance, placed an order with the dark horse company, and crossed our fingers that everything would work out. Yeeeeahhhh....about that. No sooner had I clicked "Submit" than I realized I'd made a fatal error: you know when you dutifully type in your credit card information, like you've done countless times before, and without stopping to give it a second thought, because it's what you always do, you automatically click the box for "Yes, indeed, the shipping address is exactly the same, you betcha!"? Except in this particular instance, you want the package sent to your student's home-away-from-home, where it'll actually be useful? (Because heaven know, I'M not tackling his Chemistry homework, nothankyouverymuch...)

Like I said, luckily I noticed it the minute it happened...but it was after business hours, so I couldn't do much at the time, except shoot off an email to Customer Service, and hope they'd be on-the-ball and fix it for me right away. The next morning, though, I was feeling nervous enough to also reach out by phone--but their recorded message indicated that they weren't able to handle calls at the moment, due to it being an extremely busy time. So I resorted to the last possible method of contact: online chat... which resulted in a pleasant and helpful representative assuring me that she was able to successfully change the information.

Whew! Problem solved, right? You'd think so...that is, until I got the handy-dandy confirmation message that "Your order has left the warehouse...and is on its way...to Chapel Hill!" Aaaarrrghhh! Not only that, but the boxes would be arriving here on Derek's first day of classes, too late for me to turn around and send them to him. So, guess what we had to do? That's right--buy the damn things from the university's bookstore anyway, and suck it up to pay whatever they were charging. So much for shaving off a couple of Andrew Jacksons here and there...siiiighhhh...

When the rogue parcels were dropped on my doorstep (right on time, I might add) I once again got in touch with the company--this time to admit my mistake, beg their forgiveness...and humbly appeal to them NOT to subtract the (substantial) restocking fee from my refund. The kind gentleman to whom I spoke cleared up the shipping confusion by informing me that the original chat-lady had in fact updated the address as she'd promised...but between me placing the order at 7:45 p.m. and interacting with her early the next day, the books had already been packed up, labeled incorrectly, and whisked out of the warehouse in the wee hours of the night. (Huh. A rare case of "too efficient for their own good"? Or mine, anyway...)

Oh well--upon reflection, I still believe it was a solid plan...albeit poorly executed. However, we have definitely picked up some valuable insight into how we can improve the outcome next time, such as: start earlier...and double-check the destination! As an unforeseen plus, Derek received an up-close-and-personal peek into just how pricey college supplies can be, and afterwards he mused, "Hmmm...now I understand why all those small scholarships [the counseling department talks about] might be worth it. A thousand dollars here and there doesn't sound like much, but it sure would help with books every semester!"

Aaahhh, grasshopper, I'm pleased to hear you express this newfound understanding. Perhaps this means he'll actually apply himself to seeking out some of that extra moolah...BEFORE the next time we have to go through this rigmarole? One can dream...