The Highchair Debacle of 2009

I waited a long time to order a highchair for Bub. I waited a little too long, really. But I finally did it. And then it never came. I started to wonder where it was.

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I checked my order online, and realized that it had been sent to my old apartment address. Target still had the old address in their system, and I hadn't noticed.

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I realized I could track the order through UPS, and I found out that the highchair had been signed for by my old next door neighbor, an elderly woman.

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I looked her up in the phone book, and gave her a call.

The conversation went something like this:

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Me: Hello? Irene?

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Irene: Hello?

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Me: Hi! I used to live across the hall from you, and I recently accidentally sent a highchair to my old address and I think you signed for it...
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Irene: *grumbling* I can't hear you.
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Me: I SENT A HIGHCHAIR TO THE WRONG ADDRESS AND I THINK YOU SIGNED FOR IT?
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Irene: What?
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Me: DID YOU SIGN FOR A HIGHCHAIR?
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Irene: Oh, yes. I signed for a highchair.
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Me: DO YOU STILL HAVE IT?
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Irene: No, I gave it to the man across the hall. It was a highchair.
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Me: YES. IT WAS MY HIGHCHAIR. I SENT IT TO THE WRONG ADDRESS.
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Irene: Well, I thought it was strange, since he's just a single guy. And he doesn't have a woman living there. He did look sort of puzzled when I gave it to him.
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Me: DO YOU HAPPEN TO KNOW HIS LAST NAME?
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Irene: No, I don't.
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Me: Hmmm...
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Irene: I could leave a note on his door for you. What should I write?
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So that is what we did. My old neighbor very kindly left a note on the highchair holder's door. I left him my phone number and waited for a call.
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But five days went by, and no one called. I fully expected to hear from him. I believe that most people would do the right thing and try to return the highchair to its rightful owner. But after five days, I was no longer believing in the goodness of other people. What did he want with the highchair, anyway? Did he know someone he wanted to give it to? Was he going to try to sell it? Did he throw it in the dumpster?
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Keep in mind, Bub was still having to eat his meals in this:
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Which is fine. For now. Except he's outgrowing it.
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Anyway, five days later, I decided to try to track down the highchair. I loaded up Bub and we went to my old apartment building. We went to my old apartment and knocked. And knocked. And knocked.
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No answer.
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I left another note on the door.
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I realized that in the entryway, the phone number of the resident manager was listed. At this point, I was desperate. I thought I was going to have to order another highchair.
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I called the manager and tried to enlist her help. She said that the man who lives in that apartment works several jobs and isn't there much, but that she'd try to get the highchair so I could pick it up from her.
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Finally, I made some headway!
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But that was six days ago.
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I finally got a call from the manager tonight that she has the highchair. I'm going to pick it up tomorrow. A full 20 days after it shipped!