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28 August 2005

The Sting, Part 3

..."(Starting to get mad, she knows durn well we can't "just add to the order" the has already been invoiced and staged, and we have customers waiting I've only said so five times)"...

So,eventually...when the first order was delayed...'shipped' via a different carrier. Time was wasting, so we placed a second order.

The long and the short being we paid for 10 computers, were expecting two computers and no computers came. Eventually, I understood that we had been scammed, (although the 'general manager' was sending me emails, swearing that I should expect a delivery later that week) I called to inform Paypal, emailed my customers, the bank, the FBI and many others...and waited for the sky to fall. Which it did.

It's horrible, I can't seem to escape the feeling of how much I've let people down. I can't seem to stop going over and over the things I did, the precautions I took that made me feel as if it would be okay climb out on this limb.

And finally there is this pain.

People lie, people cheat, people steal, this I know. But knowing that did nothing to prepare me for how it feels to be cheated, lied to, and stolen from. For days I was paralyzed. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to find out what to do. I no longer trusted my own judgment. At the same time, I knew my own judgment was needed to help extricate me from my current pickle.

And I was hurt. I mean like, my feelings. I didn't know how to put it into words until a few days ago. But, I assumed when going into business with these people a certain amount of good will. A sense that we were attempting to reach out across the ocean and each of us better our situation. They were a company attempting to break into new markets; I was an idealist attempting to finance a dream. I enjoyed the idea of buying and selling in a foreign land, like the traveling merchants of old, trading in one place after another. Nowadays we can touch the world from our keyboards.

Yeah...I touched. And got my fingers burned. And I felt it.

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