Letters we'd like to write

a collection of letters we'd like to write, have fun, be snide, be silly, be candid, act dumbfounded, make'em feel stupid, make'em feel smart, be persuasive...say anything...I just ask not be angry. Cuz that's boring.

Dear Sir,

And allow me to use that term loosely.  Since you have no obvious grasp of what it takes to behave in a civilized society, let me pen a few instructional tidbits for your neanderthal molars to gnaw on.

This is getting out of hand.  I've known it for weeks, but since your status quo is to be about four steps behind the least industrious person on the plant, I'm going to have to assume this is news to you.

You're in the business of making t-shirts.  Or at least, you're supposed to be.  I know this because I'm looking at a flyer with your name on it, titled as the CEO of the cleverly named "Bulk T-Shirts Inc."  Did you think of that gem?  You should fire your director of marketing because you seem to be a creative genius as well.

Now, as for the flyer!  It was brilliant!  There were pictures of T-Shirts all over it.  I had, what appeared to be the foresight to conceive that, if I were to order anything from you, my request most likely to be granted would be T-shirts.

So, I filled in a form with things like my name and address and then went thorugh this very simple process of choosing colours and logos.  And I mailed it to you with a check.  You, surprisingly did show some foresight, because you cashed the check three days later.

That was six months ago.  You may have gathered, or perhaps your assistant has whispered in your ear, that I have yet to receive my T-shirts

I spoke to your customer service agent.  Despite his ability to even  pretend that English is a language he understands, I do admire him for his ability to act surprised.  I've spoken to him everyday for the past three months and he still, convincing declares, "It be how long?  No, not that long."

And then when I tell him my last name, he asks me how to spell it.  My name, is, Jack Brown.  I can see if it was some strange, oddball name like JackRubashevskiy, but it's not, it's BROWN.

 This has happenned every day for the last three months.  He's the only guy I speak with.  Are you outsourcing your customer service department of one?

Seeing that I misunderstood your line of business by assuming from the flyer that it was T-shirts I was ordering, and you're clearly not outfitted to produce T-shirts, please send me $347.84 worth of something, anything.  100 pounds of chicken.  An 18" LCD TV.  Your wife,   I don't care.

Thanking you for all the time we've spent together,

J-a-c-k  B-r-o-wn



The End

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