The holidays are a rough stretch for Amazon drivers, it’ just comes with the territory. So maybe take it a little easier on them the rest of the year.
An Amazon driver shared a list of the top three things she wishes we’d all stop ordering online, because they’re just so heavy. If you want your Amazon person to not hate you, consider tossing these in your grocery cart instead.
Kitty litter
Cat people, you’re on notice. It’s one of the most common – and most despised – deliveries. We go through it fast, so Amazon drivers are constantly lugging those bulky Chewy boxes up porches and stairs, all the while hoping their back doesn’t give out.
Dog food
Those 50-pound bags of kibble might be convenient to have dropped at your doorstep, but for drivers making 150+ stops per day, they’re another backbreaker.
Bottled water
Not those five-gallon jugs your Culligan man drops at your door – he knows what he signed up for. We’re talking about those cases of Poland Spring you like buying on Amazon because they’re $3 cheaper.
Amazon drivers in urban areas can deliver 250-300 packages a day.
So if you can’t live without these doorstep conveniences, at least consider tossing them a small tip around the holidays.
And come summer, maybe offer them a bottle of that water.
If you have ever thought, I wish buying a car was as easy as reordering trash bags and accidentally buying 200 fruit snacks, Amazon heard you loud and clear.
Amazon has officially teamed up with Ford to sell certified pre-owned vehicles through Amazon Autos. And this time, it is not just a “sneaky” referral link that punts you to a dealership website filled with pop-ups and questionable chatbots.
We are talking real online car shopping. You can browse used Ford inventory, check out financing, compare models, and complete the whole purchase without ever speaking to a salesperson who insists you need “just one more protection package.” (Spoiler: you do not.)
To be clear, your Ford Bronco is not arriving in a box on your porch with a smiley arrow on it. There is no Prime delivery truck towing your Explorer up the driveway.
Once you buy, you simply schedule a pickup at a participating dealership. Think of Amazon as handling the parts of car buying that make you want to scream into a throw pillow, then letting the dealer hand over the keys.
Amazon says the move gives customers access to thousands of inspected, warrantied Ford vehicles and creates a car buying experience with “the convenience Amazon is known for.” Translation: less haggling, fewer mystery fees, and hopefully zero hours spent in a plastic chair waiting for a manager to “see what he can do.”
People online are already hoping this is the beginning of the end for dealership games.
One commenter even posted “death to dealerships,” which feels dramatic… even if Amazon has a history of killing physical stores.
The irony, for now, is that you still have to go to a dealership to pick up your new ride. So the death of dealerships might take a minute.
If you knew Amazon Autos already existed, congratulations, you are one of the twelve people who actually used it. Most shoppers had no idea. This Ford deal could finally give it some traction… since buying a used car online with the ease and familiarity of Amazon is a pretty appealing concept.
Right now, Ford certified pre-owned vehicles are available on Amazon Autos in Los Angeles, Seattle, and Dallas, with more cities promised soon. If this takes off, we may someday live in a world where Amazon reviews include lines like “Love my Escape, but seller used too much packing tape.”
If you’ve noticed that returns and exchanges on Amazon seem a little harder lately, you might have people like this guy to thank.
A TikTok user named John Stockwell is going viral for repeatedly ordering 110-pound cast iron anvils on Amazon—then returning them. Over and over. For six months. Each anvil costs more than $225, and thanks to his Amazon Prime membership, all shipping fees are waived. That means Amazon (or the third-party seller) is footing the bill for both the delivery and the return of an enormous, extremely heavy object. Every single time.
In one video, Stockwell proudly scrolls through his order history, casually showing ten separate anvil purchases over the course of just a couple weeks. He’s not subtle about it either. “I’m going to keep doing [this] until somebody does something about it,” he says, smirking.
If your brain is short-circuiting at the logic behind this stunt, you’re not alone. Even Stockwell’s followers seem divided.
Some have slammed him for wasting delivery workers’ time and effort, for scamming sellers, and for ultimately contributing to the rising costs that honest customers end up paying. Stockwell’s response? Laughter.
He’s been responding to backlash by doubling down on the absurdity. When critics called him out, he jokingly invited them to come argue “at his house”—and then gave Barack Obama’s address. (Yes, really.) He also told reporters the anvils are for “dropping on roadrunners,” and when asked what his goal is, he said he “hasn’t really thought about it.”
In case it wasn’t obvious, Stockwell has some stand-up comedy clips in his feed, so there’s a good chance he’s trolling for attention. But even if it’s a bit, there’s a real-world impact: someone is paying for those shipping costs, and stories like this don’t exactly make Amazon more generous with returns.
It’s unclear whether Amazon or the seller is currently absorbing the cost—or whether they’ll eventually put a stop to it. But if you’ve had a return flagged lately, this kind of ridiculous behavior could be part of the reason why.
For now, John Stockwell remains free to order and return anvils like it’s his full-time job. Whether that’s a commentary on modern retail or just good ol’ internet stupidity is still up for debate.
Ever had Amazon tell you, “Just keep it,” when you tried to return something? That tiny thrill might be more than just a lucky break. It can also be the ultimate marketing move.
It creates brand loyalty.
A lot of the big-name retailers have adopted the “just keep it” return policy for certain low-cost items over the past few years, largely because the return shipping costs more than the item itself.
Now, a study from the University of Notre Dame found that letting customers keep those unwanted or defective items – known as “returnless returns” – actually makes them more loyal in the long run.
It fosters “brand warmth.”
Researchers found that those “keep it” returns trigger something called “brand warmth.” Basically, we start to think of the company as more generous, friendly, and trustworthy. That warm and fuzzy feeling sticks, and it can turn a one-time buyer into a lifelong customer.
The effect gets even better when the company frames it as the most eco-friendly option, or suggests you keep it and give it to someone else. That little nudge can make us feel like we’re part of something bigger, and keeps the brand in our good graces.
But there’s one thing that can ruin it.
Even when the product is defective, the goodwill isn’t completely lost – unless the company demands proof. Making a customer jump through hoops to prove something doesn’t work is where the good vibes go to die.
Despite the name, Amazon has officially confirmed Prime Day 2025 will last a whopping four days, from July 8th through the 11th.
That’s 96 hours of deals, doorbusters, and digital cart chaos. And yes, that’s still apparently considered a “day.”
The name hasn’t changed, but the math sure has.
Originally launched as a single-day event back in 2015, Prime Day started off as a 24-hour sales blitz. But Amazon doubled the length in 2017, and just doubled it again.
We’re now at four full days of shopping, and Amazon doesn’t seem interested in giving the event a more time-appropriate title. “Prime Week” anyone? (I’d even take “Prime Long Weekend.”)
It’s not even the only Prime Day anymore.
To make things even murkier, Amazon added a fall version in 2022 called “Prime Big Deal Days,” which most people just call “Fall Prime Day” or “October Prime Day.” Then they tossed in a “Big Spring Sale” every March, aka “Spring Prime Day.”
Throw in all the “early deals” that drop before each event and… yeah, it’s basically a never-ending discount cycle. So while Prime Day technically still exists, it might be more accurate to call it “Prime Year” at this point.
To be fair, the word “day” is subjective.
Sure, 24 hours is a day… on Earth. But a day on Venus lasts 5,832 hours. So if you know any higher-ups at Amazon, please let them know they could go way bigger with this.
Technically, they could make Amazon Prime Day 243 days long, and “day” would still be accurate assuming you’re logged on from the Second Rock from the Sun. (I hear the 5G is spotty up there though.)
