God damnit! FUCKING UPS. I hate you all with the flaming passion of a billion robot's exhaust. Why oh why do you even bother calling yourselves a delivery company?! Alright, so here is the second part of this story, and why I decided to tell you that story in the first place. About two weeks ago, I decided to order myself a nice thirty inch hookah. Free shipping too, very nice deal all around. I ordered it so long ago based on the fact that I knew the UPS wouldn't get it here when they said they would and would instead feed me lots of bullshit. Why the rush? Well first of all, when I order something I want it right fucking then, and second of all, I am going home for Christmas in two days and it would have been nice to have a hookah to smoke with my friends in San Antonio. BUT NO! UPS thinks that that is a bad idea. Well they can go to hell. So a few days ago I notice that my tracking information still hasn't been updated from the very vague "billing information received" which means that they got the money for their service, but have no idea what is going on aside from that. So I call them and ask, what the hell is going on with my package, nice and polite, just trying to get some simple information. Little did I know that I would get to call these people at least five times, and learn a little tidbit of information every time I got one of their slack-jawed yokels on the phone. First they tell me it is supposed to be delivered that day. Awesome, I'm ecstatic and quickly inform everyone that we will be enjoying a nice relaxing smoke tonight. Then nine o'clock roles around, still no delivery. So I call the front desk. Nothing. UPS on the phone again, "well uh, it's scheduled for today, and the driver will keep going until he delivers everything, so just wait" You do realize that it's like nine thirty right? "yeah, it happens sometime." GOD DAMNIT CABOOSE! If you don't know, then just fucking tell me, don't go around being a little bitch. Fine, doesn't get here that day, that's cool. Maybe today? The next guy I get on the phone tells me that it should have gotten there, but they don't actually know if they even have the package yet. Don't know if you have it? How are you supposed to deliver it anywhere if you DON'T FUCKING KNOW THAT YOU HAVE IT!?! Fine, so where is it. "uh, we don't know, try calling the shipper" Alright, no answer. I'm still of the opinion that if it were my job to deliver thousands of packages every day, I would try and keep some sort of record on what's going on with them all. But hey, I'm not a global delivery company, just some guy that they like to ream repeatedly throughout the course of his entire life! Once again, call UPS, well, we can trace the package for you, and then maybe change the delivery address. Maybe? Don't they have some sort of training program in place, or do they just find some people with missing teeth and slap a headset on them? Fine, I'll call the seller again, damndable hippies probably smoke too much themselves, so they don't even know what UPS is. I finally get someone on the phone there, which is also odd, because most places have people available during the day, and not at three in the morning. Good to see someone is finally catering to the vampire and hooker crowd. "Uh, all our computers are shut down, so I can't really tell you anything." Great, just great. One last check at UPS reveals that my package has been rescheduled. It seems it magically turned up somewhere in a California sorting center. Great, I'm glad that you picked up a box and upheld your fucking job to deliver it. So now they have rescheduled it for December 15th. Well fan-frickin-tastic. Let me just set up a tent outside of my dorm and wait for those assholes to show up. On the 15th I will be on a train, going home, without my hookah, writing hatemail to UPS. So now I have no hookah, a bunch of tobacco, disappointed friends, no guarantee that I am actually going to get this thing anytime before January, and a big list of expletives reserved just in case someone in a brown uniform walks by.