You don’t always get the things you want in life, but sometimes you do, and when that happens, you can thank God, or your lucky stars, or Warby Parker.
The story I’m about to tell is one I treasured in my heart for months after it happened because I’m learning how good it can be to hold on to something as mine for a time. I also was waiting for the next time my poetry group met so I could share the story with them first and do a poetry-related giveaway. Now that that’s done, I want to retell the story here so I can have it on record and so I can tell my friend Nikki to read it. Nikki wasn’t able to make it to the last Poetry Well and we keep missing each other at church and she’s had a lot of sickness go through her family recently. But I know she is a fan not only of poetry, but also of haikus, so Nikki, this story is for you because I see you and because Warby Parker sees me.
This past June our family took a roadtrip to Naperville, IL, where we used to live. While walking around downtown Naperville one afternoon, we went in a Warby Parker store so TJ could try on some readers. While he was looking at glasses, I was looking at books. Well, just one book: a small, bright blue, hardcover book of haikus called Baby Pigeons.
The store had a little ledge on the wall below the rows of glasses, and on this ledge was copy after copy of the Baby Pigeons book. While I stood and waited for TJ, I picked up one of the books and flipped it open. The page I happened to read first was this one:
When I read this haiku, I thought immediately of Cash. For every birthday and Christmas that Cash has been old enough to make a wish list of gifts, his list has always included Chapstick. Somehow he just can’t seem to keep up with his Chapstick.
I interrupt the telling of this story for further clarification with a haiku of my own:
Cash, conscientious
About school work and football
Not about Chapstick
I honored that moment in the Warby Parker store by #1) taking a picture of the book I was holding and #2) thinking I have to buy this book I’m holding! I read a few more pages and then went to the register to ask about purchasing a copy. The Warby Parker employee told me the books were not for sale, but were for display so that people trying on glasses could have some text to read. I remember responding (not unkindly) with something like: Usually if you want something in life, there’s a way to get it so I’ll contact the Warby Parker corporate office and see if I can get a copy that way.
What I did not say to the employee is that I’m an 8 on the Enneagram, but I was basically thinking, I’m an 8, so you just wait.
After we got back home from our trip, I remembered the book and decided to contact the corporate office to see if they had any copies in a back storage room in a box that had never made it out to the stores. I told them how I first saw the book in Naperville and that I really wanted to find a way to buy a copy. They emailed me back right away and said they would look to see if they had any, only to follow up a little later saying there were none to be had. Disappointed yet determined, I scoured the internet for used copies. Doesn’t ebay sell everything? According to Meghan Trainor:
Nah to the ah to the, no, no, no
My name is no, my sign is no, my number is no, uh
You need to let it go, uh
You need to let it go, uh
Need to let it go, uh
Nah to the ah to the, no, no, no
The problem (or solution) is that I couldn’t let it go. Being told no and no and no only got me more fired up and determined to figure out how to get a copy of the book.
So one day a couple weeks later, I was on my morning walk and was deep in thought, trying to come up with an idea of how to get a book. Not long after the walk, I ran with the idea. I looked on the Warby Parker website and clicked on the page to see locations nearest me. The first page showed 19 of over 250 locations, so I printed the addresses of those 19 stores which were in places like Charlotte, Raleigh, Atlanta, Charleston, Lexington, Knoxville, and Nashville. (This was before a Warby Parker came to Greenville, in which case this whole story might have been different.)
I stood at the island in my kitchen one evening shortly thereafter and typed out a letter that I could send to the list of Warby Parker stores. I told the stores the story I’ve told you: how we went to the Warby Parker in Naperville, I saw the book, I wanted the book, I perused the book, I wanted the book, I was told the book wasn’t for sale, I wanted the book, I couldn’t find the book on ebay, I wanted the book, I love poetry, and I wanted the book. I didn’t quite say it like that, but I did tell about my various attempts to get a copy of Baby Pigeons and asked if their particular store had an extra copy I could buy. I said I would even take a worn-out copy they had pulled from the store displays due to customer overuse. I said I would pay shipping. I enthused about my love of poetry and my husband’s first pair of Warby Parker glasses, which he bought not long after our trip to Naperville. And then I printed 19 copies of that letter, addressed 19 envelopes by hand, wrote my return address 19 times, and affixed 19 stamps at who knows what each (I think it’s funny that I know what every item I buy at Aldi costs, but I couldn’t tell you the cost of a stamp. Just Forever.)
TJ made fun of me a little when I told him what I had done for that hour of my evening, but I said You just wait. I believed with all my heart I would get a copy of Baby Pigeons. Within a couple weeks of sending the letters in the mail, my wish came true. I got a book! And then another one. And another one. And another one.
I got Baby Pigeons times four. I got notes like these, and a couple of the stores also included some cool Warby Parker swag in the form of tote bags, eyeglass cloths, and bookmarks. In these small acts of generosity, I felt known, loved, and seen.
And not one store asked me to pay them for the book or the shipping. The only thing I had to pay was a little bit of time and whatever those 19 stamps cost. I decided to keep one book for myself, give one to my mom, do a drawing for one at the Poetry Well (after telling this story), and set aside the final one to give to Nikki.
I am so thankful for those few Warby Parker employees who went out of their way to fulfill my request (and even exceed my request with the fun extra merch!). I guess that was a small price for them to pay for my loyalty to Warby Parker for life. When the day comes that I need readers, I know I’ll be seeing Warby Parker because Warby Parker sees me!