After stumbling upon a neat do-it-yourself beaded necklace idea in the August issue of
Martha Stewart Living and deciding that I was going to make it, I was on the hunt for some natural wooden beads. Knowing that I would be in the area, I looked for bead shops near Abington, Pennsylvania (just north of Philadelphia), and found one in Willow Grove, the next town over. (Bonus: They sold wooden beads that were made in the Philippines.)
With my sister-in-law in tow, I went to find the shop. As we turned into the road it was on, we saw a car dealership and some warehouses. Odd. Then, more warehouses. Even odder. We found the store, eebeads.com, and it slowly began to sink in that it was just a warehouse. Oops. I parked the car, got out, and greeted a man who was placing old printers and computers into the back of a van. He told me that the store was online only, and that had it not been for the fact that he needed to recycle some old computer equipment, he would not have been there since it was the weekend.
"It does say that it's an online-only store on the Web site," he pointed out.
"I guess I didn't read it very carefully, I'm sorry," I said. "I came because I was in the area and I really wanted to get some beads. Well, since I came all the way out here, will you give me free shipping on my Internet order when I place it?"
"Sure, just write that Allen said you could get free shipping. It's just me and my wife who run the store. She'll be back in a moment—she just went on a quick errand."
I pulled out the magazine and showed him my project. "I'm trying to make this necklace," I said, pointing to the picture.
"Well, we do have beads like that, and I believe they're in stock. Why don't you come in since you're here and let's see if we can get you set up."
Mary, my sister-in-law, laughed. "Wow, so this is what the World Wide Web looks like," she said, looking around at the spacious warehouse.
"You never know what's going to happen when you go looking for a bead store with me," I said.
His wife, Carolyn, walked in, and we introduced ourselves to her and explained the situation. She kindly suggested what kind of wire I should use for the necklace. I paid for the beads and the wire, thanked them again for being so gracious about my silly mistake ("It happens all the time"), and now I have a necklace to make.
Now that I am ensconced in suburbia and all its wonders, I couldn't help but notice this new-to-me minivan bling: Custom family decals. Because nothing screams vanilla, suburban and soccer mom more than cutesy cartoon representations of one's family slapped cheerily on the rear window of one's minivan. But that's not even what irks me the most. Has it occurred to these people that they are advertising information that could potentially be used against them?
