Recently, Amazon.com started selling grocery items, available using their trademarked Prime Shipping, even though it isn’t technically available in 2-day shipping. To me, this new step seems inspired, what with the increasing levels of laziness in the millennial generation, myself included, but the system still has plenty of fine-tuning to be made until I personally proclaim it a successful venture for the internet shopping giant.
First of all, as mentioned above, the shipping takes too long. I experimented with ordering something the other day, but once I arrived at checkout for my measly package of Fanta, Pringles, and Dove soap, the site announced that the package should not be expected before Monday. This was Wednesday. For something called Prime Pantry, I expect a better status of shipping than using a third-rate electronics outlet operating out of Jakarta.
Second of all, not every grocery and health and beauty item is available for PP yet. For a system to work to the fullest, the majority of Prime-worthy items, lest they be on back-order, should be available to pick out and ship out together. It says something that I could use normal Prime shipping and get non-Prime Pantry grocery items more quickly than the heavily advertised Prime Pantry, Amazon’s prime outlet for grocery items. Um…
Third, the newest option for Prime Pantry is the following: The Dash Button.
I can appreciate the leaps in technology that bring us those couple of steps closer to The Jetsons. However, there is still the issue at hand regarding the reliability of unregulated Dash-ing.
The device is a simply designed tab with a single button and single operation:
But what happens when little Donny Jr. gets his hands on the shopping button and presses it to his heart’s delight? What if the analog apocalypse strikes your house and you are unable to access your Amazon account and suddenly your checking account is slapping you with multiple overdrafts while gallons of Gatorade are dropped off in front of your residence, barricading you inside the dwelling with only Gatorade to sustain yourself on while anxiously awaiting rescue? Can we protect ourselves from such a promising, yet volatile new technology that connects itself directly to our financial arteries?
What happens if you accidentally set your tablet next to the device and suddenly your e-books have been corrupted, replaced by multiple incarnations of vintage Sears-Roebuck catalogs and Amazon promotional guides from 1995? Are you going to be hypnotized by the overt consumerism on display and spend all your hard-earned Monopoly Monies on dog-eared copies of The Bold Vegetarian: 150 Inspired International Recipes?
Is there no end to the ridiculous consumerism that permeates the pores of our pauper-ish patriarchal penitentiary? Can Brett finish this editorial before he leaves for the evening? Is there no end to the madness?