On Friday when I went to Berkeley and swore, I tried to get a frame for my law school diploma. So did everyone else, apparently, since there were none to be found. On Saturday I went to the website for Ned's Bookstore and ordered one up online, since engaging in commercial transactions over the Internet is apparently the new big thing. The price was $139, the size was wrong, but I was willing to deal with it.
I received an e-mail from Ned's that same day telling me that the order would be processed within one business day, and that a second e-mail would be sent at that time confirming the order. Four business days later I hadn't heard anything, and my credit card hadn't been charged, so I replied to the e-mail and asked whether I was getting my frame or not.
A few hours later I received the following e-mail from someone at Ned's identified only as "KAP 110":
"Maybe ask Llyod[sic] about this?"
This intrigued me. Who the hell was Lloyd? And besides that, who the hell was Lloyd? I replied forthwith asking: "Who's Lloyd?" I half-expected (and hoped) I'd get a response along the lines of "Come on, you know, Lloyd. Tall guy, wears glasses. You seen him around."
But the mystery was soon solved, for an hour or so later I received a call on the telephone (a technological advancement that Ned's seems to be more comfortable with) from a man identifying himself as "Lloyd over at Ned's." He told me that my frame would be sent today. Hooray! Frame!
He followed up with "Only problem is, I don't know where you got that $139 price. We been sellin' 'em at $149 for a while." Not knowing how to approach the task of explaining his own website to him, and lacking the energy to bust out some UCC provisions entitling me to the lower price, I accepted the ten-dollar ding and hung up with him.
And if my predictions are correct, in a few days I should be the proud owner of a Haas School of Business diploma frame.