Why Google saved the day by helping me be Nancy Drew. Also, why I hate UPS.

My parents are going to China for their 30th wedding anniversary. Whenever they travel together, they get nervous. "What if we both die and then you have no idea where anything is?" is a question my mother always asks. "Anything," in this case, always refers to "important documents."

Said "important documents" were therefore overnighted to me via UPS, so that I could have them before my parents hopped on a plain to Shanghai.

Did my UPS delivery ever get to me yesterday? No. This is the same experience I had with UPS a couple of weeks ago regarding my tax forms. Surprise. But unlike last time, it wasn't just a day late: it didn't come at all.

I called UPS, concerned. "It was received and signed for, miss," was the answer I got. So after asking everyone at Naked (which isn't hard, there are only fifteen of us) if they had signed for my package and getting unanimous no's, I got more worried. I called back. "It was signed for by Anthony Gallo."

We have no Anthony Gallo at Naked.

I asked the boutique under us if they had an Anthony Gallo who signed for a package. I did the same at the gadget store next door, and our upstairs neighbors. No luck.

I then Googled this Anthony Gallo. A gay male porn star, apparently.

No, "GaLLOOOOO," UPS said. "G-A-L-U."

I Googled again. This was the second result.



Building development. General contractor. nyc.gov. Interesting.

"There is construction next door," Noah reminded me.

Ah yes. The construction that has made me "use the other sidewalk" for over six months.

I walk into the "building" and frantically began explaining my complicated situation to the security guard. Before I could get into any sort of detail, he interrupts me with "Um, okay let me call Anthony, hang on."

ANTHONY?!

Yes. It turns out that my charming UPS delivery guy either didn't feel like climbing the stairs to our third floor (they always give us attitude about that) or was too blind to count the numbers on the buildings until he got to the one that matched my address at work. So he went next door, to a developing apartment building, letting Anthony Galu (which I totally can understand being confused for the name Johanna Beyenbach) sign for a UPS package addressed to not only MY NAME, but Naked Communications.

I got the package, but it was opened. All thanks, once again, to What Brown Did For Me.

But at least I got my package. And all of the pieces were still in the envelope.

So this, my friends, is how Google saved me. Helping people be sleuthy since 1998.