“Right on top is my gift card, from me to me. Is that special or what? If I don’t deserve the best, who does? In my card, I remind myself of how awesome I am, and I tell myself not only to enjoy my gift but also to remember that I deserve it as a bonus for suffering through the arduous rigors of reinventing myself once again.”

–The Wired Researcher (b. 1947; Acclaimed and Self-Effacing Educator, Essayist, Green Mountain Scholar, and Humourist, Waiting for Long-Overdue New York Times Recognition.)

Listen up, folks, I need to clear the air right from the start. I’m no shop-til-you-drop fanatic. Seriously, I’m not. My shopping stamina peaks somewhere around a leisurely stroll in my online shopping wonderland. I mean, I do love to shop but not in stores. Shopping in stores takes far too much time. I have to drive to the store, walk up and down all of the aisles, paw over every single item that I might be interested in and even a few that I’m not interested in at all, stand in line to pay, and then drive back home. Also, if I want to do comparison shopping–and who doesn’t?–I have to drive around to another store or three or nine. Then, eleven times out of thirteen, I’ll end up right back at the first store where I started my nonsensical in-store shopping. Then, I have to drive back home. Been there. Done that. One time, too many. I do not like it.

But like I said, I love shopping. For a long, long time, I’ve done most of my shopping online. In bed, head resting on my pillows. Almost exclusively.

“Say whaaaaat?“

Yep. Why not? I can order it tonight and get it yesterday at my front door, or if I use Amazon–and who doesn’t?–I can get it the day before yesterday or sooner.

Many people have lots of legit concerns about online shopping. But I think the plusses outweigh the negatives. Relax. Kick back. Chill with me. If you’re not in the online shopping camp, I won’t try to walk you across the line. However, you might enjoy reading about a few of my own experiences as well as some of my own observations about how to recognize a solid merchant when you’re thinking about an online purchase.

“Whoa. Whoa. Stop. Stop in the name of shopping, before you break your wallet! Aren’t you afraid of credit card fraud?”

In some ways, yes. In some ways, no. In one word: Nope. In all my years of shopping online, I have had only one scare. Once, someone managed to get my card number and tried to buy a $2,700 Cesare Attolini man’s suit at the acclaimed E–y Mo-e–ii- store in Naples! Luckily, American Express monitors my purchases–using parameters that I established–and stopped the transaction. But hey! If I’m going to be defrauded, at least I want it to be by someone with exquisite taste! Actually, I’m hoping that the buyer–notice that I have kept the fraudster genderless–got to touch the suit for a fleeting second and enjoy its velvety luxuriousness. As for me, a former community college professor who can barely afford to reinvent himself, there’s no way–there’s just no way–that I could ever afford my fraudster’s attempted lifestyle. Vicarious theft will have to suffice for me.

Ironically, credit card fraud is not the biggest concern that my friends and family express to me about online shopping.

Appalled. Yep. That’s what they are. They sound something like this:

“It would never fit.  The dresses never run true to size.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Not try them on? That’s half the fun of shopping for clothes.”

“I have to feel it. I simply won’t buy it if I haven’t felt it.”

Well, to each their own. As for me, it’s a given: I don’t want to try on clothes that God only knows who all has tried on already. As for the fabric, unless I’m mistaken, 100% linen always feels like 100% linen, and 100% cotton always feels like 100% cotton. I mean, really. Come on. Why all the fuss?

I know what I want, so I have no need to scope out the entire clothesscape. I know my size, and it runs true. I know my preferred fabrics, and I’m sticking with them. So, for me, it’s settled. I’ll be loyal to the two clothing purveyors that meet my needs: Joseph Banks and Paul Frederick. When it comes to shoes, I have two more purveyors that have proved true as well. When I order online from them, I can count on the size being right and on the leather being genuine: Bostonian and Clarks. What’s even sweeter is that I can get my shoes Broken In already. I think that’s what it’s called. Hmm. Maybe it’s Ready to Wear? Gently Worn? Well, whatever. It’s not by some stranger who probably wouldn’t want to walk in my shoes even if I’d let them. Instead, it’s by some robot who has nothing else to do but walk around all day in strangers’ shoes. Well. As I always say, different strokes for different folks. But those break-in steps sure do flex my soles.

The same thing holds for my underwear and my socks. Good God, no. I don’t mean that they’ve been Broken In already. (Don’t get me going there.) I simply mean that I know my size and my preferred fabric for those things, too, so it’s perfectly safe and okay for me to be clingy.

Sometimes, though, when I’m shopping for clothing, I like to be bold and step outside my comfort zone. A year or so ago, for example, I spotted some shirts on sale online from a clothier in London, just a stone’s throw Across the Pond. I knew as soon as I clicked that it had to be good, if not better. Sure ’nuff. When my button-down-collar broadcloth shirts arrived, the cut was for a real man with a real man’s full chest, just like mine. Those Brits know the measure of a man, and they know how to value him. Aside from their manly cut, here’s more proof. After I placed my order, they did not email me that my shirts had been shipped, as merchants do on this side of the Pond. Instead, they sent me an email that was suited to my status:

“Dear Dr. Kendrick,

We are pleased to let you know that your custom order has been dispatched.”

Dispatched. Don’t you just love it? I do. I long for a world where everything is dispatched. And the email was signed by Nicholas Wheeler, the Founder of Charles Tyrwhitt. Wow. I take great comfort in knowing that if I want respect, I know where I can buy it.

Needless to say, Charles Tyrwhitt is my new best clothing bud. I like their clothing well enough that recently I ordered a pair of their Chinos. They arrived just a few days ago, and I was thrilled when I looked at my package. My pants had gone through Customs and had to be inspected. God only knows who pawed all over them. I’m intrigued and cannot help but wonder. It doesn’t really matter, though, since I always launder my clothing before I wear it. So, I washed and dried the pants and gave them a hearty shake-a-roo–you never, just never, iron Chinos and don’t even think about creasing them–and then I put them on. They fit perfectly and feel as if I’ve been washing them forever. Soft never felt so Chinos before.

But hold your stylish horses; I can’t resist spinning more tales of my online buying escapades. I’ve talked about threads, but now it’s time to unravel the stories of my other online retail dalliances. I buy my bedding from Down Under. I love the quality of the linen as well as the range of colors, plus their sizes run large, as do their men who are among the tallest in the world. They always fit my extra deep mattress with no straps required to tie them down, and they stay snugly in place. (Obvs. I mean the sheets, not the men. You got that. Right? Of course.) I guess that’s why I’ve been foolin’ around with In Bed for several years now, and every night when I hop in bed, the bedding down keeps getting better and better.

Part of my fun in buying from Down Under and from Across the Pond is tracking my purchases. I like to see where they stop en route to me. Why, sometimes I make believe that I’m traveling along on my own little mini vacay, for example, as my sheets and pillowcases, move from Sidney to San Francisco to New York to DC to the FedEx Distribution Center in Harrisonburg (VA). I always hear the FedEx Driver grinding his way up my washboard gravel road. He’ll not sneak up on me. I’m always waiting and meet him at my door to accept my delivery. When the box arrives at my front door and I open it, I am always amazed by the careful packaging those In Bed Aussies give their sheets: they’re in a hinged box with a twisting vine design, and the bedding is secured in place by a brocade ribbon matching the linen. Right on top is my gift card, from me to me. Is that special or what? If I don’t deserve the best, who does? I remind myself of how awesome I am, and on my card, I tell myself not only to enjoy my gift but also to remember that I deserve it as a bonus for suffering through the arduous rigors of reinventing myself once again. More important, perhaps, is this: the sheets and pillowcases are folded so meticulously that I can’t find one single solitary wrinkle, unless I happen to look in the wrong direction and catch a glimpse of me myself in the mirror. (Aside to me myself: take down that mirror!)

Aside from bedding and clothing, I procure many other things online, too, notably hard-to-find, exotic foods.

Most recently, I ordered a whole dried squid online. Yes. It was a squid. In my book, a squid is a squid is a squid. I know fully well that culinary books talk about calamari, and I know that they are not exactly the same. Calamari are smaller and have a more tender texture. Tough. I refuse to call a squid a calamari. Hooey Phooey! Calling it by any name other than what it is will not–cannot–make it taste any better than it tastes, already. Besides, I like watching people do the Tentacle Dance when I walk in the room and announce squid as our appetizer.

Anyway, I had to have this whole dried squid so that I could make authentic Taiwanese Squid Soup, one of my all-time favorites. After years of searching, I finally found an authentic recipe. That’s why I had to buy myself a dried squid.

What I didn’t know until I received the tracking number was that the squid was being shipped from Mainland China. Hot damn! This wouldn’t be one of my little mini vaycays. I’d have myself a full vacation by the time it reached me.

I kept checking daily to see where the squid was traveling. It didn’t seem to be moving at all. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t expect it to be traversing the ocean floor in its usual graceful and undulating locomotion. It was, after all, dead and dried. But it had to be somewhere in China. A week or two went by, and I had no location updates, and my vacation depended on those updates. Finally, an email disclosed all. My dried squid was in Guangzhou, a major shipping city. Well, major or minor, it just seemed to hang out there. Since it was a dried squid, after all, no big deal. Several more weeks passed, and I still had no further updates. Hmmm. I texted my Linden (VA) correspondent, who’s practically my online shopping guardian angel when it comes to my international honor(able) purchases. Below are tentacles from our messages spanning several weeks.

WIRED: I need to see where my squid is.

LINDEN CORRESPONDENT (LC): Your squid is going on its farewell tour.

WIRED: My squid has made it from China’s Great Wall to Los Angeles.

LC: And where is the squid?

WIRED: Sitting in CA. But I’m ready when it arrives.

LC: Tell it to catch a wave.

WIRED: The squid arrived. They scrunched it all up in a little package. They probably killed it.

LC: So, soup tomorrow?

WIRED: Depends on how long it takes me to bring the squid back to life.

I took photos of my world-traveling squid and shared with LC before and after I soaked it for nearly 24 hours. I swear. For a moment I thought that I saw it move:

LC: Ah! Now THAT looks like squid!

WIRED: Yes. It’s smelling. like an ocean breeze.

To LC’s horror, but to my squid-loving delight, I unveiled my Taiwanese Dried Squid Soup on Monday, September 4. It was the ultimate way to Celebrate Labor Day. Who needs to work hard when you’ve got a tentacled twist on an all-American holiday tradition? It seems thinking outside the box is my birthright.

I just realized that this pillow-talk post about online shopping could feather itself into a book, maybe even a multivolume one. I still have hundreds of stories to share with you. Let’s see how fast I can fluff up this part. (DISCLAIMER: I am not an affiliate of any of the merchants above or below. Click to your heart’s content. Nary a penny will find its way back to me! FURTHER DISCLAIMER: The litany of merchants was not influenced at all by Justin Bieber’s “Peaches,” but sometimes a tune gets stuck in my head. Just sayin’.)

● I get my pork out in Tennessee from Porter Road Butcher: “Life-changing meat, delivered.”

● I get my chicken and duck up to the North from D’Artagnan Meats in New Jersey: “Food raised right tastes better.”

● I get my beef and lamb up in New York from Lobel’s: “For six generations … purveyors of fine meats dedicated to the highest standards.”

● I get lots of seafood up in New York, too, from Citarella: “Seriously Fresh Seafood Shipped Overnight.”

● I get my live oysters and some other seafood, up in New York, too, from Fulton Fish Market: “From the Sea to Your Door.”

You’ll have to wait until the book’s publication to sniff out the purveyors that I use for Baklava, cheeses, chocolates, dates, exotic meats, figs, exotic fruits, spices and much, much more.

But you won’t have to wait to get the low-down on why I think my merchants are top-notch.

They offer High-Quality Products, and they take pride in what they offer. They have User Friendly Websites that allow a seamless online shopping experience. Obviously, they are Reliable. They deliver on their promises, provide accurate product descriptions as well as pricing, and shipping details. I can rely on them to fulfill my order promptly and accurately. Somewhere in the blend, I have to include Transparency because my merchants are upfront about their policies, including return and refund procedures, shipping costs, customer support, and contact information. Finally, they provide Excellent Customer Service. They offer responsive and helpful customer support through various channels like live chat, email, or phone. If I have an issue or inquiry, they make resolving them a priority.

OMG, that trait just reminded me of a recent online purchase. Trust me. It wasn’t a smooth ride. It was a tale of pillows, My Dear Readers, and it’s what inspired this post.

Funny thing is, I didn’t really need new pillows. But being the side sleeper that I am, I couldn’t resist those online pillows custom-made for folks like me. So, one evening–probably with a shot or three of Bunnahabhain Single Malt Scotch Whisky in hand–I impulsively placed an order.

A day or three later, an email pinged in, announcing the shipment of my pillows from our side of the Pond, where everything is shipped and nothing is dispatched. Since my online shopping delight includes tracking my deliveries to my front door, I was determined to ensure that neither stranger nor robot had snuggled up with my pillows. I was going to break them in myself.

The tracking journey began for the pillows I’d ordered from the Sl–p-gr-m. I checked daily. Concern crept in when the delivery date status showed “IN TRANSIT–ARRIVAL DATE PENDING.” Not ideal. But I’m a patient soul. I gave it a full week before shooting off an email to the company. They responded with apologies and promised to send a fresh pair.

Guess what? Three days later, I checked the status. You won’t believe it, but the new shipment displayed the same “IN TRANSIT–ARRIVAL DATE PENDING.” Frustration brewed, especially when my emails went unanswered. Fed up, I threatened to contact American Express and dispute the charge. That got their attention. They assured me an immediate refund.

But here’s where things get really amusing. Sl–p-gr-m initiated a special search with UPS for both shipments. Ironically, all the tracking info was linked to me since I was the customer. Weeks later, an email revealed that the packages had been found and were in transit.

“Sweet,” I thought. “They must be sending the pillows as a goodwill gesture.”

Wrong! Another email came, and you won’t believe it: the pillows were in transit back to the company.

Now, it gets really funny. Both shipments are still on their way back home to Sl–p-gr-m. When I last checked, the status remained “IN TRANSIT–ARRIVAL DATE PENDING.”

As a wise friend once said, “What goes over the devil’s back comes under his belly again.”

And me? I scream joyfully:

“Karma!”

Well, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. But, as luck would have it, while I was on this whimsical journey of pillow karma, I stumbled upon Saatva, a company offering the perfect pillows for side sleepers. They may not have been cheap, but as they say, you get what you pay for.

Now, here I am, enjoying the luxurious comfort of these new King-sized pillows as I wrap up this whimsical tale of pillow-talk karma. It’s been quite a ride, from inexplicably vanishing pillows to international escapades, all while joyfully shopping online. And you know what? It’s been one heck of an adventure, one I’ll treasure as I rest my head on my new, heavenly pillows, giving my head and my heart the Karmic peace they deserve.