How can an online store hate me?

I have never been much of a "shopper." I'd rather watch a Geico "Caveman" 24 hour marathon than go out to a mall. Something about the crowds, people banging into me, the uneasy feeling of an impending shooting spree, the likely possibility that it will be ME perpetrating the shooting spree, the inevitable standoff with police, wondering if the news cameras will make me look fat...it is just all too much.

Now, thanks to the Internet and Amazon.com, anything more difficult than one-click instant checkout while still unshowered and in my pajamas seems like a LOT of wasted effort. And as an extra Internet shopping bonus, I get to suffer the humiliation of trying on new clothes in the comfort of my own home, far away from the harsh lighting, cloying salespeople and spy cameras of your average store dressing room. Now, instead of slinking out of the dressing room like a criminal after I realize the pants that looked so good on the mannequin make me look like an eggplant, I can just walk directly to my liquor cabinet and stay there until I don't even remember what pants are.

This is why I was so shocked when Amazon recently started getting nasty with me. There I was, happily checking out --- probably buying something I could have driven half a block down the street to purchase, probably buying something that is totally ridiculous to buy on Amazon, like lettuce or a spare human liver --- but doing it anyway because I am helpless against the seduction of their speedy checkout.

That was when the "Amazon PayPhase" feature popped up.

Amazon explained the concept to me: PayPhrase is "an easy-to-remember shortcut to shipping and payment information in your Amazon.com account. Use it for Express Checkout on Amazon.com and across the web."

In short, PayPhrase is a unique phrase of two or more words that you can use to not only checkout on Amazon, but also use at other merchants offering the PayPhrase option. Instead of viewing your cart, picking your saved credit card, picking your delivery destination, picking your shipping method and then checking out, you can hop right from cart to final checkout confirmation by typing your PayPhrase. Granted, Amazon already has my credit card, my delivery destinations and my shipping methods saved, so it only takes me a second to click through those screens, but now it could take MILLISECONDS for me to buy pork loin and a pedicure. I could probably break some sort of land speed record for shopping, without even brushing my teeth.

I read about this new lightning-fast ordering trick, and then ever helpful Amazon suggested a PayPhrase for me, their loyal and devoted customer:

We suggest: "Amy's Negative Life."
What the...  Amy's Negative Life? Is Amazon passing judgment on my existence?

I felt sucker punched. Where did that bile come from, Amazon? What have I done to you to cause such bitter hatred? I am just trying to buy myself a Cafe Latte with extra foam and you attack me like that?

Shaken, I skipped this mean-spirited new option and checked out as usual. Maybe PayPhrase was just having a bad day.

I came back to Amazon the next evening to buy a Battle Tank. The neighborhood kids had starting whipping around on their fancy electric scooters like they owned the place, and it was time someone taught them a lesson. I bought some mace while I was at it, as it was Girl Scout Cookie season. As I was making my way through my usual checkout routine, PayPhrase popped up again with another phrase I might want to use to move things along. After all, this three-click-to-checkout dance was starting to become like writing a check in the grocery store line.

We suggest: "Amy's Sunken Courage."
You did not just go there. Are you calling me out, Amazon?  Are you trying to say I don't have the balls to use PayPhrase checkout?

I began to take things personally. PayPhrase was allowed to have one cranky day, but going to checkout only to find Don Rickles, Triumph the Insult Dog or a lady from the DMV at the register every time was just not fair.

I decided to give Amazon another chance to pick a pleasant phrase for me.

We suggest: "Amy's Suck Bravery."
Suck Bravery? What is that? That's not even proper English. I can't tell if you're telling me that I suck or if you're calling me some kind of a dicey thrill-seeking whore, Amazon. I have to say either option is uncalled for and rude.

We suggest "Amy's Facial Courage."
Ok, that clears it up. You were calling me a whore.

We suggest: "Amy's Special Eeg."
What the heck is an Eeg? Is it Amazon Mexico talking about my special egg? If so, why do I have a special egg? That sounds like something Of Mice and Men's  Lennie would be carrying around after he accidentally crushed his rabbit. Or is it E-E-G, and Amazon is implying I'm going to need a brain scan when it is done with me?

We suggest: "Amy's Clogged Courage."
All right. That's it, Amazon. Meet me behind the bike racks after school, motherfucker.

We suggest: "Bravery and Homicides."
You read my mind. Just let me one-click checkout these brass knuckles and I'll be right there.
I just hope that battle tank shows up today.

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Every one of the above mentioned PayPhrase examples are actual suggestions from Amazon)

(EDITOR'S NOTE: You can find more of Amy at her laugh-out-loud blog, KidFreeLiving.com)