alwayscoffee

I’m a big fan of etsy.com. All handmade goods, at reasonable prices, bought from brilliant artists. From clothing to furniture, Etsy has it all. (You should see the jewelry. Best place to buy well-made, beautiful jewelry. Did I mention I like jewelry?)

Unfortunately, today, Etsy’s made me angry. Not the website itself, but someone I bought an item from two years ago. I somehow missed feedback from a Seller, from 2009.

I’m irrational angry at this person I don’t know. I’ve dealt with her once. We aren’t likely to ever meet. But who is perfectly reasonable all of the time? No one.

So, this anger. Why? Because the Seller lied. Blatantly.

I bought an anniversary gift for my parents. The Seller had given me an arrival date for the item, after I inquired about it. The date passed, and the item wasn’t there. I waited a week before contacting her, asking where the item was and if something had gone wrong. I was curious, but polite.

She said nothing. Not a word. I started to panic a little. The gift wasn’t cheap. I had already shown the picture to my parents. How was I going to fix it?

A few days later, with a word, the gift arrived. (Yay!)

But what about the silence? The unanswered message? It was stressful and unprofessional. It wasn’t a good transaction. I gave the seller neutral feedback – praising the item, but not the service, stating that her communication was lacking.

Apparently, the Seller thought lying would be a good idea. She claimed that I ordered the item three days before the event, and then was upset that it didn’t arrive on time.

Yes, that’s exactly what happened, in a parallel universe somewhere in the land of delusion.

(Some point between then and now, she sent me a “kiss and make up” request – and you KNOW what she can go ahead and kiss.)

I don’t like it when people lie. I don’t like it when people lie about me. And this isn’t just about the Seller lying. This is about human behavior. People can be downright mean, snarky, bitchy, and crappy. No question about that. If you tell me otherwise, I’d like to know what you’ve been smoking.

When I was in middle school, a bunch of the girls (myself included) got called into the guidance counselor’s office. I cannot remember why. Probably because it was over something so trivial that my brain deleted it. I remember telling the truth of what I heard and saw.

Then, Barbara – the cowardly thing that she was – lied for one of the Popular Mindless Idiots (the same girl who put tape in my hair during math class – no, I haven’t forgotten). I sat there, dumbfounded – my jaw literally hanging open. I protested, insisting that Barbara was wrong. The Counselor (gem that she was) basically told me to shut up.

It took me years to realize that the Counselor didn’t care about the truth. She wasn’t really there to figure out what happened. No, she just wanted the matter settled, so that life could go on – and we could get back to class.

Me? I’m a truth junkie. Give it to me, and give it to me straight. I don’t care if I don’t like it. I don’t care if it makes me angry. Sometimes, I don’t even care when it hurts my feelings.

I want to know. I want The Truth (however obscure, slanted, or individually defined).

We don’t always get the truth, do we? We don’t always give it, find it, or receive it. Sometimes, we even hide from it.

So, I’m irrationally irritated at a Seller on Etsy. It happens. It reminds me, though, that we can’t control other people – no matter how much we want to, or how wrong they are.

We write our own story in life. That story overlaps with others. Sometimes, people scrawl in the margins, tear at the edges, or break out that awful red pen.

People lie. Rumors get started. Stories are born.