Chloe Fellwock Rebecca Slezak, DN

Chloe Fellwock is a freshman advertising major and writes “Full Dis-Chlo-sure" for the Daily News. Her views do not necessarily agree with those of the newspaper. Write to Chloe at

Once again, my socks have been knocked clean off my unsuspecting feet. My beef has been broiled to the core. 

On Cyber Monday, I decided to treat myself. I noticed that there was an online deal at a store that deserves no free advertisement. It will be referred to as Aged Water Army.

I got online and found a pair of pajama pants I liked for half off. I added it to my cart, applied my coupon for free shipping and ordered it. The rush was incredible. I had played the system. 

Little did I know; the system would soon play me.

The next day, I received an email saying that my purchase would arrive on December 3. 

They would not arrive until December 7.

“Great!” I thought, “Surely this will be a smooth and simple process!” As I’m sure you can infer, t’wasn’t. 

I tracked that package from California to Muncie every single day. I spent an entire week wondering how long it takes to acknowledge that a package has arrived at a post office. I am obviously not a postal worker, but I can’t imagine it takes that long. 

Aged Water Army, this is not amateur hour. Christmas is coming soon. I have spent more than enough time decking halls and writing papers waiting around for my pajama pants. How am I supposed to have a finals week breakdown if I don’t at least have some comfy pants to remind me that the world isn’t a bleak sea of double spaced, 12-point, Times New Roman font? 

To make it worse, Aged Water Army had the audacity to send another email asking how I liked my purchase. How do I like them? How do I like them? I’m about to throw these hands. 

I feel used, Aged Water Army. My sleepwear needs mean nothing to you, I understand now. I’m just a corporate tool who can be used to push more pajama pants. So no, I will not write a rating of the pants. 

The United States Postal Service doesn’t get a pass either. They’re the ones who took a week to acknowledge the existence of a package. I was in agony waiting for these pants. I just want to know what I did to deserve this preview of hell. 

If you want to give your loved ones something from any online store this holiday season that ships through USPS, just realize that you should’ve bought them about five years ago because that’s roughly how long they’ll take to get there. 

Truth be told, I’d do it all again. I’d wait ten lifetimes for the sheer pleasure of owning these pajama pants. I would rebuild a dream house with a wrap-around porch to obtain this level of comfort, ya feel? 

Just please, don’t tell Aged Water Army.