girl interrupted

Let’s see, where do we begin…it was a dark and stormy night, and by dark and stormy I mean not dark at all, and actually slightly warm. Oh, and by night, I mean morning. Early morning. So early, I hadn’t even started my coffee. You know what, it wasn’t my coffee…it was my friend’s coffee, yeah, my friend Melissa. My friend Melissa was sitting at Zu Headquarters, er, and by Zu Headquarters I mean….her warehouse…organizing a bunch of newly printed t-shirts that were going to go up for sale on her website…buzoutique.com. These were special shirts with special designs on them that she was extra proud about and couldn’t wait to release to the public. Especially because bringing them to market had been a very difficult process filled with all sorts of threats and legal nonsense from a large company that didn’t like what these shirts were promoting. But Melissa, being the brave (see: naive) individual that she is decided to raise her fist in the air in defiance and proceed with the selling of these shirts that were so near and dear to her heart. And we say “were” because these shirts are no more. Since on that not-dark-at-all and slightly warm morning, a great pounding on the Bu Headquarters’ door startled poor Melissa as she was first sipping into a marvelous cup of coffee she had just concocted. Confused as to who would come visiting at such an early hour, she opened the door with a yawn, and was confronted with a mob who pushed quickly past her spewing law this and legal that and shoving official form this and certificate that into her face in a whirlwind of mind-numbing confusion and nerve-rattling distress. Before poor Melissa could even get her lawyer’s number up on her phone, the mob was gone. With them went the three new shirt designs, and the computer the designs were created on. 300 t-shirts and 3 years of hard work gone in an instant. In their place was left a mountain of paperwork and a complete lack of understanding. Now, a few days later, the situation is understood a little better. This was meant to be a death-blow. The final shot to end this idiotic battle. An obstacle so disheartening and seemingly insurmountable that Bu Zoutique would just raise the white flag and give up forever.

Melissa has been underestimated. She can’t be scared into complacency and financial threats are powerless since she’s not in this for the money. She just wants to put out shirts she loves, in the hope that others out their love them in the same way. Sure this is a setback, but Melissa looks at it like this: the shirts are just cotton and ink, that’s nothing to worry about. The computer, although awfully nice, had been securely backed up on and off site (Melissa learned her lesson well from when she was robbed almost a year ago) so in the end very little “damage” was done. The pillagers missed a stash of blank shirts Melissa had hidden away, and there are already screens made for a secret design she was planning on putting out in the near future. This contraband has been whisked away to a secret underground location, and this single, surviving design will be covertly put up for sale as soon as it can be printed. This of course will be frowned upon, and will likely tried to be stopped. But Melissa isn’t worried. She’s learned yet another lesson, a lesson in knowing whom you can and can’t talk to. Whom you can trust and who is to be avoided. Certain “mistakes” that lead to this seizure won’t be happening again.

Taking a step back and a deep breath: the most offensive, most despicable part of this whole situation, is the fact that that amazing cup of coffee was prohibited from being enjoyed by me. Uh, enjoyed by Melissa.

-Danny