31st May 2001

I’m in love with Webvan. I know people throw the L-word around pretty lightly these days, so let me clarify: If Webvan had a penis, I would propose.

Webvan brings me flowers, wine, and quality ice cream in little round “this is quality ice cream” containers. Webvan never comes home with a can of smoked oysters and some salsa when I gave Webvan a list of the fresh produce I wanted. Webvan comforts me with ready-made meals after a hard day at work. As soon as Webvan can have sex with me, it’s a go.

Unfortunately, no matter what Dionysian wonders modern technology has in store, that day will never come. You see, Webvan is dying, and I think I know why:

A Brief Conversation With the Unenlightened Webvan Delivery Guy:

DG: Yeah, I work on the weekends, so Tuesday and Wednesday is my weekend.

Me: Hm. That’s kind of cool. You can do all of your errands without worrying about crowds or stuff closing early.

DG: Actually, you’d be surprised. The grocery store is always packed.

12:11 a.m.