The conveyer belt is not a ride. I didn't find it amusing when you took your child, a toddler old enough to ask for a ride and to carry a conversation on with me about his soccer ball, sat him on the conveyer belt, and then activated it yourself so he could take his "ride". I considered it rude and disrespectful, not only to those of us who are about to put our food items on the belt, but to the cashier who is responsible for that station. That's her workspace. Remind me to take a dog to your house and bathe it in your kitchen sink without asking.
I shouldn't have been surprised, afterwards, when your kid was standing up in the shopping cart, wigging around to make it move, and then when he tried to climb back up onto the conveyer belt while the cart rolled out from underneath him and he almost took a header onto the floor. After all, you've set him up to think that's appropriate conduct.
Sincerely,
Me
Dear/Sincerely
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Dear Shoppers Drug Mart,
Alright, I'm going to call you out on this one.
$5.99 for a twelve-can pack of Coke is not a sale. Neither is 2/$10.99. Trust me on this, I buy a lot of pop and $5.99 is expensive even at full price.
Furthermore, since you are so very conveniently located near my house, I am in your store quite frequently, so I can attest to the fact that even within the world of your establishment alone, $5.99 is not a sale. That's the most expensive price you ever sell a 12-pack.
Don't be a big old liar, Shoppers. It shames you.
Sincerely,
Me
$5.99 for a twelve-can pack of Coke is not a sale. Neither is 2/$10.99. Trust me on this, I buy a lot of pop and $5.99 is expensive even at full price.
Furthermore, since you are so very conveniently located near my house, I am in your store quite frequently, so I can attest to the fact that even within the world of your establishment alone, $5.99 is not a sale. That's the most expensive price you ever sell a 12-pack.
Don't be a big old liar, Shoppers. It shames you.
Sincerely,
Me
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Dear Marketing Strategists,
There's something you should know about me. I am a pretty easy-going guy, but there is a surefire way to ensure that I do not engage your services or purchase your product: show up on my doorstep and tell me I must do something.
Seriously. As soon as you tell me I need to show you my natural gas bill / hydro bill / water heater, you've just guaranteed that my heels will dig in and you've lost the sale. You could have the best service in the world to offer, but I'll simply never know. I hate the doorframe strategy that much, particularly when coupled with some fictitious obligation to do as you ask.
I know that you've been coached on indicating your neat little identification tag as well, but really, is a reliable laminator so hard to come by these days? I don't mean to imply that you're shady criminals trying to pull a fast one over on the unsuspecting public, gaining access to our homes so you can scope out the goods and return under cover of darkness with your goons to snatch up the priceless jewels and artwork that we undoubtedly have on display in our parlours, but what does showing that ID really prove? Just that you ... um ... at minimum a home computer and access to the Business Depot.
So I'm sorry if I'm missing out on something wonderful. I'm sorry if your door-to-door sales agent is missing out on my commission. I'm sorry if I just irk you with my stubborn nature. I just can't turn off the part of my brain that gets defiant whenever the trigger of your sales tactic is pulled. It's just who I am.
Sincerely,
Me
P.S. This applies even if your sales representative has an incredibly enjoyable Irish accent that was the inspiration for every leprechaun stereotype in the Western world. The only difference is that I'm sort of smiling the whole time I'm saying, "No."
Seriously. As soon as you tell me I need to show you my natural gas bill / hydro bill / water heater, you've just guaranteed that my heels will dig in and you've lost the sale. You could have the best service in the world to offer, but I'll simply never know. I hate the doorframe strategy that much, particularly when coupled with some fictitious obligation to do as you ask.
I know that you've been coached on indicating your neat little identification tag as well, but really, is a reliable laminator so hard to come by these days? I don't mean to imply that you're shady criminals trying to pull a fast one over on the unsuspecting public, gaining access to our homes so you can scope out the goods and return under cover of darkness with your goons to snatch up the priceless jewels and artwork that we undoubtedly have on display in our parlours, but what does showing that ID really prove? Just that you ... um ... at minimum a home computer and access to the Business Depot.
So I'm sorry if I'm missing out on something wonderful. I'm sorry if your door-to-door sales agent is missing out on my commission. I'm sorry if I just irk you with my stubborn nature. I just can't turn off the part of my brain that gets defiant whenever the trigger of your sales tactic is pulled. It's just who I am.
Sincerely,
Me
P.S. This applies even if your sales representative has an incredibly enjoyable Irish accent that was the inspiration for every leprechaun stereotype in the Western world. The only difference is that I'm sort of smiling the whole time I'm saying, "No."
Friday, July 6, 2012
Dear Man in the White Volkswagen,
I am sure you and I are both aware that the law prohibiting the use of handheld devices while driving was created largely in response to the prevalence of cellular phone use (and the accompanying habit of texting) by drivers. You and I are both aware, also, that you were not speaking on a cellular phone, nor were you texting or using the internet, when I passed you on the highway.
I do believe, however, that the spirit of the law -- aiming to make drivers less distracted and therefore safer -- would extend to the handheld devices that you were making rather extensive use of while you drove: a steno pad and a pen. Sure, you may have been kicking it old-school, but writing a rather extensive memo to yourself (or, perhaps to someone else) would likely fall under the category of distracted driving nonetheless.
Perhaps you might consider paying a bit more attention to the road and either invest in a voice recorder or write your novel in the safety of your home.
Sincerely,
Me
I do believe, however, that the spirit of the law -- aiming to make drivers less distracted and therefore safer -- would extend to the handheld devices that you were making rather extensive use of while you drove: a steno pad and a pen. Sure, you may have been kicking it old-school, but writing a rather extensive memo to yourself (or, perhaps to someone else) would likely fall under the category of distracted driving nonetheless.
Perhaps you might consider paying a bit more attention to the road and either invest in a voice recorder or write your novel in the safety of your home.
Sincerely,
Me
Monday, July 2, 2012
Dear Strung-Out Woman at the Corner Store,
Firstly, let me state the obvious. Drugs are bad. Get off them for your own sake and for the sake of those around you.
Now onto the specifics of this evening. I understand that you might be frustrated that the fireworks you bought at the corner store weren't all you'd hoped they'd be, but that's really not the store's fault. I mean, I'm not sure that the finest fireworks are to be found in the same place that sells supposed aphrodisiacs from the counter anyway, but given that it appeared to me that you tried to light them while they were still in the box doesn't really help, either. The guy at the counter is correct: they don't make them and they're not exactly a returnable item. That's pretty clear.
Still, leaving the store and returning several times simply to swear and threaten to blow him up aren't really the best ways to deal with your frustration. Besides, if you want to blow him up, you're likely working with a level of logic right now that would prompt you to try and buy explosive fireworks to do the deed at the store you're aiming to blow up.
Perhaps it's time for you to go home, sleep off this trip you're on, and maybe things will look less critical in the morning.
I hope you had a good Canada Day yesterday.
Sincerely, Me
Now onto the specifics of this evening. I understand that you might be frustrated that the fireworks you bought at the corner store weren't all you'd hoped they'd be, but that's really not the store's fault. I mean, I'm not sure that the finest fireworks are to be found in the same place that sells supposed aphrodisiacs from the counter anyway, but given that it appeared to me that you tried to light them while they were still in the box doesn't really help, either. The guy at the counter is correct: they don't make them and they're not exactly a returnable item. That's pretty clear.
Still, leaving the store and returning several times simply to swear and threaten to blow him up aren't really the best ways to deal with your frustration. Besides, if you want to blow him up, you're likely working with a level of logic right now that would prompt you to try and buy explosive fireworks to do the deed at the store you're aiming to blow up.
Perhaps it's time for you to go home, sleep off this trip you're on, and maybe things will look less critical in the morning.
I hope you had a good Canada Day yesterday.
Sincerely, Me
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Dear Tim Hortons Cashier,
Isn't it marvellous how technology has changed our lives? To think that just a few decades ago, the creators of Star Trek envisioned a future of wireless communicators and now we've utterly surpassed it ahead of schedule with our smartphones that not only allow us to talk, but text, video call, and surf the internet! We don't even need to walk around with cash bills or coins, or worse yet, paper gift certificates! Now we have Tim Cards to use exclusively at your establishment! It's so quick and convenient, wouldn't you agree?
Of course it is; however, on several occasions now, I've had the following experience:
*Hand card over to you*
*Watch you swipe it down the card-reading side of the point of sale machine*
*Watch you swipe it again*
*Watch you swipe it a third time*
*And again*
*And again*
*And again*
*And again*
*And again*
*And again*
(Now this is my favourite part!)
*Watch you swipe it instead in the little hand-held part of your point of sale machine.*
*Take the card back along with the tea I purchased*
As a special treat, one time you even said, "I thought they fixed that yesterday," indicating that you are aware that the first card-reading thing you're trying doesn't work properly.
Now call me crazy, but it seems to me that it would no longer take eight to twelve swipes in the non-functioning portion of your machine before you would try the more reliable hand-held card reader instead. But perhaps I simply am not aware of the bigger picture here.
Perhaps you can win a prize if you get the card to work in the first reader.
Perhaps the second reader is extremely delicate and liable to fall apart at the slightest touch.
Perhaps you are trying to start a fire with the friction created by frequent and brisk swipes of the card card on the first reader.
In the future, perhaps you could speed things along just a little by moving on to the tried-and-true hand-held reader.
After all, I admire persistence, but perhaps I enjoy logic just a little bit more.
Sincerely,
Me
Of course it is; however, on several occasions now, I've had the following experience:
*Hand card over to you*
*Watch you swipe it down the card-reading side of the point of sale machine*
*Watch you swipe it again*
*Watch you swipe it a third time*
*And again*
*And again*
*And again*
*And again*
*And again*
*And again*
(Now this is my favourite part!)
*Watch you swipe it instead in the little hand-held part of your point of sale machine.*
*Take the card back along with the tea I purchased*
As a special treat, one time you even said, "I thought they fixed that yesterday," indicating that you are aware that the first card-reading thing you're trying doesn't work properly.
Now call me crazy, but it seems to me that it would no longer take eight to twelve swipes in the non-functioning portion of your machine before you would try the more reliable hand-held card reader instead. But perhaps I simply am not aware of the bigger picture here.
Perhaps you can win a prize if you get the card to work in the first reader.
Perhaps the second reader is extremely delicate and liable to fall apart at the slightest touch.
Perhaps you are trying to start a fire with the friction created by frequent and brisk swipes of the card card on the first reader.
In the future, perhaps you could speed things along just a little by moving on to the tried-and-true hand-held reader.
After all, I admire persistence, but perhaps I enjoy logic just a little bit more.
Sincerely,
Me
Friday, March 9, 2012
Dear Dempsters,
I would love for you to make a slight modification to your English muffin package labelling.
Would you please clearly label your packages with either "Cut down the centre" or with "Cut on a listing boat by a monkey with a lazy eye and a drinking problem"? It would make it much easier for me to choose the slicing style I prefer. You see, as it now stands, every bag of English muffins is a crap shoot. It can be quite annoying to open a package, remove a muffin for toasting and then struggle to pry it apart without ripping it to shreds in the process and even then to end up with one huge chunk and a second side which roughly amounts to a bready poker chip.
Clarity would make all the difference.
Of course, alternatively, you could simply cut them all down the centre and fire that monkey.
Sincerely,
Me
Would you please clearly label your packages with either "Cut down the centre" or with "Cut on a listing boat by a monkey with a lazy eye and a drinking problem"? It would make it much easier for me to choose the slicing style I prefer. You see, as it now stands, every bag of English muffins is a crap shoot. It can be quite annoying to open a package, remove a muffin for toasting and then struggle to pry it apart without ripping it to shreds in the process and even then to end up with one huge chunk and a second side which roughly amounts to a bready poker chip.
Clarity would make all the difference.
Of course, alternatively, you could simply cut them all down the centre and fire that monkey.
Sincerely,
Me
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