Latest News
A cautionary address verification tale: Gift-less on Christmas
It was officially Dec. 1. The date is significant for numerous reasons, but it's exceptionally important for Chris Jennings, an excitable eight-year-old boy living 20 miles south of Billings, Montana, at the foot of the Pryor Mountains. His nearest neighbor is almost 10 miles down the dusty road that spills out over the landscape like a serpent burrowing into the horizon.
Chris steps out into the crisp air. Ice encircles every window. He snaps off a twig from a fallen tree branch that looks suspiciously like a sorcerer's wand. He carefully measures it against his forearm. Ten inches? Maybe 10.5? In either case, it would have to do. The wand chooses the wizard. He knew as much because of Harry Potter.
Chris notices a shadowy figure appear in the kitchen window where steam obscures a clear view. He shouts the enchantment for a disarming spell and watches an iridescent spark erupt from the end of the wand and send the mysterious creature in his home fleeing back to the deep, dark recesses it came from. He looks down at the wand and nods approvingly.
Chris's mother watches from the kitchen, returning to a sink where a pile of dishes in need of a scrubbing has collected after several days. Linda works part-time at a tourism center 15 miles into the interior of the Pryors where she welcomes three or four guests each week to tour the state park. She'd been furloughed during the poorest performing tourist season on record, leaving her savings account as dry as the land extending from the foothills of the mountain to their modest one-bedroom home.
There never seems to be enough money to save for anything after paying for the mortgage, utilities and food. She watches Chris flick his wrist and aim a stick at the tree, and seconds later he contorts his body in practiced anguish while convulsing with laughter. Linda sighs deeply, turns off the faucet and breathes in the soapy steam. She can't escape a smile that overwhelms her face, knowing that Chris will still be thrilled without a pile of toys this year. He wears his hand-me-down hand-me-downs without shame and has asked for just one gift this year: an authentic wizard's wand.
Several hundreds of miles away, Dave Wilson is an order fulfillment manager for Pure En'Toy'Ment, a Chicago-based e-commerce company that delivers toys to kids all year round. But Christmas is an entirely different story. Orders begin flooding almost as soon as the turkey slides into the oven on Thanksgiving day, and they don't relent until the waning hours of Dec. 24. Black Friday is becoming almost unbearable. Cyber Monday is something of a blur, when his eyes redden and strain as customers browse, click, add items to their shopping cart, reach the payments page, go back and delete a selection and finally choose their shipping preference and fill out their billing and shipping addresses.
Then they expect magic.
If even a fraction of the customers entering their shipping address had any idea of the demanding nature of address verification when filling out online orders, they may spend an extra few minutes making sure the street names and number were accurate. He knows he has to honor every order to maximize profits, but there's a lingering fear in him.
Dave's face is creased with concern. He's been staying on top of the news with the different shippers this year. Both UPS and FedEx have indicated they expect larger package volumes than the previous year, when he had a 10 percent chargeback rate because of undelivered packages. Dave knows he can't afford this. It can't happen this year. But UPS said it expects an 11 percent increase, and FedEx predicts a 9 percent jump in shipments between Black Friday and Christmas Eve alone. And DHL? They've promised to deliver to people's cars.
Sitting behind his computer screen in a cramped, windowless office in the industrial firmament of Goose Island, his palms start sweating. He knows he's cut critical corners to create a more cost-effective workflow. He hasn't installed address validation software and decided he would be safe without address verification. The faster consumers can get their order fulfilled, the happier they'll be and the more likely they'll return as satisfied customers - hopefully earlier in the year than the next holiday season. Dave knows nearly 20 percent of his annual sales come from this time of year. It's boom or bust, and he's determined to boom.
Two weeks later, Chris is drawing a lightning bolt into his forehead in the bathroom while his mother sits in front of the family computer. Linda cautiously looks back and forth from the glowing screen to the sliver of light breaking through the gap between the bathroom door and the floor. Her fingers work quickly, entering the Pure En'Toy'Ment URL.
At the top of the screen, she searches for "Harry Potter magic wand," and the page slowly loads with a results page weighed down with more than 100 choices. A shadow momentarily flickers under the doorway. She knows she has a few precious moments to order the wand. Making her selection, she reaches the address page and hears Chris shout out from the bathroom. Panicked, she rushes through the billing and shipping address, unknowingly entering the wrong street number for the shipping address as her finger slips past the right key. Chris is now crying, and she rapidly clicks until the page indicates the order is complete. Linda jumps up from the computer and opens the bathroom door only to find Chris holding a permanent marker.
Meanwhile, Dave has barely been able to keep up communications with suppliers to ensure sufficient inventory levels. Merchandise has been flying from his distribution center. So far, few orders haven't met the correct recipient. He's thrilled he's been able to manage without address verification software, believing customers have finally learned their lessons and are checking their orders with greater care. He stands up to get a cup of coffee from the break room just as an order for Linda Jennings enters the workflow. Although the address is valid, Dave is completely unaware Chris's gift is headed for the wrong home, with a guaranteed delivery date of Dec. 25.
On Christmas day, the package hasn't come. Chris is standing behind his mom with his face buried in the small of her back as she dials Pure En'Toy'Ment - feigning a phone call to the North Pole - and speaks with Dave. He's overwhelmingly apologetic, takes down the correct address over the phone, offers Linda a full refund and ships the wand with next-day delivery.
Chris still has a fading lightning scar etched into his forehead, and with a muted smile tells his mom that it didn't matter that he didn't have Harry's wand. He had his, and it chose him.
