acho que não

Dear Owner of Curves Vaughn, Who I Have Never Met, and Whose Name I Don't Even Know, Which I Find Odd, Given that at My Previous Curves Location, the Owner, Dionne, Knew All the Customers by Name:

When forced to change gyms because of a job change, I specifically chose your club because it was a Shining Star club. I thought that would mean I'd continue to receive the same level of personal attention I'd grown accustomed to at my previous location (Curves Markham on Alden Road).

Today was a pretty typical day. I came in between 8:30 and 9:00 and got a half-hearted hello from the person on the desk. Other than that, she was doing paperwork and ignoring the circuit.

After a few minutes, though, she stopped doing paperwork and left the desk. I thought she might pay some attention to the half dozen people on the floor, but no, she wandered aimlessly around, arms crossed, face scowling, gazing out windows, reading the bulleting boards and ignoring the circuit.

Then a second staffer arrived, and I thought that now that there were two people on duty, surely one of them would be tasked to attending to the circuit. But no, they stood behind the desk, chattering to each other, and not about anything particularly work related. They weren't scowling though, I suppose that was an improvement. But still, they were ignoring the circuit.

I was late for work, so I cut my circuit very short (something the staff didn't notice or ask about to see if there was a problem) and left. They were still standing behind the desk, chatting with each other. Ignoring the circuit.

At my previous club, staffers were engaged and engaging. They encouraged us, made us laugh, corrected our form on the machines and helped us get to know each other. They were the best part of Curves. It was almost like being in the commercials. I find the experience at this club to be completely different, and your club looks shoddy in comparison.

There are exceptions - I came in off schedule on a Thursday once, and ran into the same staffer who had been working the first day I visited the club. She remembered me from that one other encounter, offered some pointers, and generally did her job well. (I believe her name is Liz, but I'm not sure.) Perhaps other days and other times your location is staffed by people who care about their jobs. But Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings before 9:30, all you have are scowling, unhappy people who appear to need more sleep.

Perhaps you should consider hiring some morning people?

Dear Advertising Moron,

Why, yes, the water for my toilet and my tap do come from the same place. So does the water I use to wash my hands which I later lick chocolate off.

The great thing about living in a first world country is what that means is that the water in my toilet, like all the other water in my house, is fully safe to drink, floridated for the health of my teeth and generally over-engineered.

What that doesn't mean is that the water in my taps is somehow dirty or contaminated. It also doesn't mean that I need to buy a Brita to filter my already perfectly healthy tapwater.

The only thing involved in that advertisement that is full of shit is you.

Sincerely,
Me

Dear Slimy Credit Card Company

It's true that I only continue to have an account with you for reasons of maintaining my credit score. I otherwise find you distasteful, dishonest and incompetent. The 'free gift' offer I received today is just one fine example of all three of those qualities.

Let's address them in order, shall we?

First, distasteful. Let's take a look at the CDs you'd like me to buy so I can claim my free gift, shall we? Perry Como? Paul Anka? Celine Dion? Dion? Surely you have my birthdate somewhere on your files, and can tell that I'm not in fact 78 years old. Why on earth would you send me an ad for a bunch of artists that weren't good even when they were popular?

Second, dishonest. Free. Free is an interesting word. I'll spare you the definition and the joke about beer and speech and assume you actually do know what it means. According to your letter, I'm eligible to receive the free gift because I'm a preferred customer. Though, I must first agree to purchase 2 CDs from a very short list of bad CDs for $9.97 (plus applicable taxes and shipping and handling). Sounds to me like my eligibility has more to do with my being a sucker than a customer, especially as '$25.01' and 'free' mean different things.

Finally, let's take a look at incompetent. Nowhere in this letter does it mention what my free gift might be. It doesn't tell me it's a mystery gift to build my excitement, either. It's just not mentioned at all. So this 'free' gift that's supposed to make me excited enough to pay $25.01 for some bad CDs? No idea what it actually is. I'm sure to get excited about that!

Not one of your more brilliant advertising ploys, Slimy Credit Card Company.

Sincerely,
Me

Dear Customer Service Reps at Simply Audiobooks who are, Apparently, Still Not Permitted to Answer Direct Questions

After the rather poor ending to our relationship, I'd think the last thing you'd want is to keep in touch. There's really no question of us remaining friends.

Still, you felt some compelling need to send me a reminder that my rental shelf was empty, despite the fact that we broke up over 6 months ago. I responded with what I thought was a perfectly reasonable (if somewhat snarkily expressed) request that you remove my email address and other contact information from your database. Of course, first I had to struggle through your web form, which, apparently like your email reminder service is unable to tell the difference between current and former subscribers.

And what was your response to that? "I can confirm your account remains closed."

Thanks so much for that, Christina. *I* can confirm that my account remains closed. Unfortunately for both of us, that's not actually what I asked you to do.

Now how about removing my email address from your database, hrmm?

Repetitively,
Me

Dear Somewhat Slow-witted Collection of Hotel Desk Clerks at the W Hotel,

I'm trying to make as many allowances for you as I can. After all, the first time we discussed my non-working room keycards, you were quite busy, so solving the immediate problem was probably all you had time for. And the second time we discussed my non-working room keycards, it was very late at night, so maybe, like me, you were drunk and exhausted (though that seems somewhat unlikely and not a tad unprofessional). But the third time we discussed my non-working room keycards, it was early and there were no other pesky customers absorbing the attention of any of the three of you on duty.

And yet, despite having your undivided attention, it still fell to me to suggest that 8 key cards and 2 maintenance visits into my stay at your hotel, it might not be a problem that was going to get resolved any time soon. And that perhaps you might just move me to another room. One that didn't require three trips up and down the elevator, a personal security escort, a check of my photo ID and half an hour to get inside.

It didn't seem like that big a leap of deductive reasoning, really. But maybe I'm just so brilliant that hard thoughts come easy.

Smartly,
Jacquilynne

Dear Ken Jennings, Celebrity Mobster on One vs. 100.

I know you're a Mormon and that means you don't even drink coffee, but you're also a smart guy. Which means you should know what Speed is and what it does. You should then also be recognize that a quiz show which includes a grand total of 14 questions in an hour of television can not, under even the most generous of artistic licenses (and I'd like to help you out on this one, Ken, cuz I think you're funny and self-aware and I read your blog, but I just can't), be described as Jeopardy on Speed.

Jeopardy on barbituates, maybe. Jeopardy on a month long alcoholic bender, perhaps.

But Jeopardy on Speed implies that anything on this amazingly stupid show is done at more than a snails pace and with even the slightest hint of intelligence.

Disappointedly,
Me

Dear Ken Jennings, Celebrity Mobster on One vs. 100.

I know you're a Mormon and that means you don't even drink coffee, but you're also a smart guy. Which means you should know what Speed is and what it does. You should then also be recognize that a quiz show which includes a grand total of 14 questions in an hour of television can not, under even the most generous of artistic licenses (and I'd like to help you out on this one, Ken, cuz I think you're funny and self-aware and I read your blog, but I just can't), be described as Jeopardy on Speed.

Jeopardy on barbituates, maybe. Jeopardy on a month long alcoholic bender, perhaps.

But Jeopardy on Speed implies that something on this amazingly stupid show is done at more than a snails pace and with even the slightest hint of intelligence.

Disappointedly,
Me

Dear DJs, Music Directors, Station Manager, Receptionist and anyone else who works at Country 95.3 and could, at any point, have said 'Hey, that's a stupid idea!' but didn't.

I can understand the attraction of a feature called 'Legends of Country Music'. You get to tell a neat story about an artist. You get to play a catalogue track without anyone complaining that it's old, since that's the point. You get to mention Country95.3 an average of 95.3 times during the intro. You get to record the intros in advance so you get something that sounds like a live DJ while your actual DJ is getting a blowjob from the nearest indy promoter. All very good reasons for introducing such a feature.

But really, Kenny Chesney?

Classicly,
Me