The Customer Complaint Letter Game

[XCashier]

Dear Miss Little-Scam,

What you don't seem to know is that all cars have a Vehicle Identification Number, or VIN. Every one of our cars has its VIN in our files, and the one you brought back had a completely different VIN than the one our records show you renting.

We have filed charges. Expect a police officer very soon.

Regards,

Payne Hurts, owner,
Hurts Rental Cars

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To whoever's in charge of the Rennesance -- or however you spell it -- Fair,

What kind of scam are you running here?! We paid eight dollars each to go to the fair, and go on the rides. You didn't have no roller coasters, no ferris wheel, and that thing you laughingly call a carousel was tiny and turned by hand! Why aren't there any sparkling lights and calliope music?! The only music was a bunch of guys in funny costumes playing weird-looking guitars, I think they called them "loots".

Worse, when we went to get refreshments, the bitch serving beer got all uppity with me, just because Bob tried to motorboat her cleavage! If she didn't want that kind of attention, she shouldn't have been wearing a fancy costume with her boobs hanging out! Then some morons in armor threw us out!

We are angry and outraged at this sort of treatment! We want our money back, a million dollars for our trouble and the phone number of the beer broad.

Sincerely,
Phil Istine and Bob Barian

[Kristev]

Phil Istine and Bob Barian

We don't have rides at our faire, except for the jousting tournaments, where only the best, most experienced and practiced jousters may compete.

And lute-playing is a fine tradition.

The woman was right to complain, and our knights were indeed correct to defend her honor by throwing you out. Under no circumstances will you be given your money back, let alone a million anything, and no, you won't get her number.

Now get civilized and stop bothering us before I turn you both into the toads you acted like at the faire!

Sincerely,

Miss Sorcey Ress,

Owner and director of the Solstice Festival Renaissance Faire.

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Dear Genie's (Where We Grant Wishes, From Footwear to Dishes) Mail Order Catalogue Company,

I found one of your catalogues in my sister's house when I was visiting for the weekend and she said I could look through it. And while I wanted to order everything that I saw in it, one thing stood out to me as the very best object you had, the Quixote vanity mirror. The description alone was worth buying it for. "All other mirrors merely reflect back what's actually there, but with the Quixote vanity mirror, you'll see everything as its most beautiful possibility. It makes a homeless guy with bad teeth and poor hair see himself as Antonio Banderis. It makes a wrinkled old crone with sagging skin look like Miss Universe. Your cat will see a lioness. And your man will see the girl of his dreams if he sees your reflection in the mirror."

So naturally I just had to have it. But I could never afford it myself. My sister was washing the dishes in the kitchen, so I asked my sister if I could borrow the brush in her purse, and she said yes. I found her brush, and her bank debit card. While my sister, and her husband and sons, went out to eat, I stayed in her house, called the number, and used the credit card.

I got my mirror, and I was as happy as could be, looking at the self I want to be for hours. I even managed to get my best friend to snap a photograph of my own reflection in the mirror so I could go to shopping, and to my beauty parlor, to make myself look like my own reflection!

But now I just got a furious e-mail from my sister, demanding that I pay her back from the mirror and that I cannot ever enter her house again. Something about "We couldn't make our house payment and had to move back in with Mom because you used our money without telling me!"
And then I find out my nephew has gone all over the Internet telling everyone he knows that I'm a thief who ripped off his family.

She's suing me, so I'm suing you, the Genie's Mail Order Catalogue Company. I want five million dollars, and lifetime rights to have whatever I want from your catalogue for free! And you can give my sister her money back so she can get her house back!

If you won't grant this wish, I know a few boys in Jersey who owe me a favor, and they're good at making people disappear.

Signed,

Miss Natruss Worthy.

[purplecat41877]

Dear Ms. Worthy,

You stole money from your sister when you used her card. Therefore, you won't be receiving anything.

Sincerely,

G.Enie
Manager



Dear Hardware Store Manager,

You had no right to have me fired and arrested! All I did was trace your signature and use it to write a termination letter to a coworker I can't stand. I demand you drop the charges and fire all the coworkers I can't stand. If you don't, I will write the letters myself and use your signature.

Sincerely,

F. Orger

[catcul]

Dear Ms. Orger

We knew you had forged my signature. When Sally came into my office wanting an explanation of her letter of termination, I became suspicious. After convincing her that I wasn't firing her, I read the letter. I recognized your hand writing. Nobody else dots their "i"s with little hearts, especially me. What you did is considered fraud and you deserve to go to jail.

If I were you, I wouldn't worry about putting up with your irritating coworkers any more.

Sincerely,

Stanley Lowe, Store Manager, Tool Depot #381

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Dear Purple Cat Bar & Grille,

Last night, I had a little too much to drink at your bar. I was about to go out to my car to drive home. After dropping my keys on the floor a few times, I went back to the bartender and asked him how I could get home. The bartender must have called one of his buddies because this guy came up to me and offered a ride home. After putting me in his passenger's seat, he drove me home, walked me to my door, and left me to wander my house.

When I woke up the next morning, I was shocked to find my car in the driveway. How did you do that?

Sincerely,

John Daniel

[purplecat41877]

Dear Mr. Daniels,

We had a tow truck deliver your car and covered the bill. Enclosed is some groups that can help with your drinking.

Sincerely,

P. Urple
Manager



Dear Supermarket Manager,

I was being checked out by an employee who looked miserable. When I told her to act more cheerful, she had the nerve to say that her grandmother just died. You need to tell her to get over it since her grandmother is dead and can never come back to life again. If you don't, I will shoplift from your store.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Insensitive

[catcul]

Dear Mrs. Insensitive,

That employee had lost the woman who raised her father. That would be a blow to most people. We can understand if she wasn't feeling very cheerful. As for you, if we catch you shoplifting, you will have something to worry about other than an unhappy employee.

Sincerely,

Apple Harris, Store Manager, Happy Foods Market

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Dear Mazda,

I was looking for a new car when I went to a dealership. I was looking at the RX-8. It drove well. I asked what kind of engine it had. He said that it had a rotary engine you called the Wankel. I was so outraged, I walked of the lot right then and there.

I know what you're up to. You're trying to turn our children into a generation of perverts. I bet you had a meeting with the governor of North Carolina in Horneytown or Climax and came up with that name. I will find evidence of your dirty, filthy, perverted deeds. Your day of reckoning is coming.

Sincerely,

Pare A. Noid

[Kristev]

Dear Mr. Noid

Sometimes they come up with real clunkers for car names, but I believe we have a car just for you. It's called the new Alleviate, because it takes away all your worries and cares while you are in it.
We do not have any control over what the names of towns are, and as for perverts, if there was no sex, there would be no children in the first place. So come try the new Alleviate, and let your cares and worries melt away.

Sincerely,

Magda Wheeler,

Owner of Magda's Mazdas.

__________________________________________________ ______________________________

Dear Monopoly Chain Supercenter,

I went to your store the other day because I read online that your corporate executives had just issued a new edit that employees in your excessively large stores, all five employees, were now required to drop whatever work they were doing and personally greet and assist all shoppers they saw, even in the midst of a rush the size of Black Friday. "All shoppers are to be given 1,000 % of your attention at all times, and to have the wonderful experience of a lifetime."

So, naturally, since your stores are so huge and, with dozens of managers but only five workers in your biggest stores and even fewer in your smaller ones, and they always looked so exhausted because they're each doing the work of a thousand people.

Well, I came in expecting to be catered to and waited on hand and foot, when a bright, cheerful woman in a Monopoly Chain uniform stops stocking a shelf just because I enter the store through the door near her and turns to me.

"Hi, I'm Gaye," she says. "How can I help you?"

Well, firstly, I know she's lying because her nametag says Gaylon. But I'm just so offended that she would come right up to me and so openly hit on me that I hit her in the face and knock her down just to get away from her. Then I scream hysterically, and run right out the door.

I tremble all the way home.

How dare you hire disgusting people like that? It's obscene!

I demand that you give me ten million dollars for my trauma and stress, and that you fire that woman and all other homosexuals in your business. And that you hire a personal shopper just for me so that I'll have the experience your online ads promised me.

If you refuse, I'll come down with an army of people I know, since my brother is part of a rather large coalition of white weekend warriors, and they love to show up and teach people lessons . . . I'm sure he and his friends will be as angry as me that I was hit on by some lying store employee. If you don't want me to rally him and his friends into your store, fire that woman and give me my money and my personal shopper!

Signed,

Mrs. Lucy Cannon.

[purplecat41877]

Dear Mrs. Cannon,

Gay is short for Gaylon so she was not lying and she's married to a very handsome man. We won't fire anyone for the reason you want and we're charging you for assault and banning you.

Sincererly,

Mo Nopoly
Manager



Dear School Vice Principal,

You had no right to suspend me! You're not the principal and only the principal can suspend students. Since your suspending me is invalid, I'm going to continue to come to school. If you report me to the principal, I will set off the fire alarm.

Sincerely,

Stu Dent

[catcul]

Dear Stu,

I hate to break this to you, but Vice Principal John Walker has the same authority in suspending students as I do. Vice Principal has informed me that you were caught trying to buy cigarettes from Winner Jones. Please honor your suspension so we don't have to get police involve. If you pull the fire alarm, you might be enrolled in reform school.

Sincerely,

James Beam, Principal, Bourbon County High School

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Dear Brent Smith of Shinedown,

I was listening to some of your music when I heard it. The song was called "Cut the Cord." In the song, you were advocating freedom by cutting the cord.

I know what you're up to. You're telling mountain climbers, bungee jumpers, and skydivers to cut the cord so they can have the freedom to plummet to their deaths. That way, they'll be forced to live through the ghost. I will find evidence of your evil chicanery. Your day of reckoning is coming.

Sincerely,

Pare A. Noid

[Kristev]

Dear Mr. Noid, you escaped us again this time, but we're on to you. We know where you are and we'll come get you soon. Don't try to run. We're everywhere.

Signed, Nurse Y, assistant to Dr. X,

Head doctor of You Know Where . . .

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Dear Leona Pride, Owner of Lioness Pest Control.

I called because I saw your commercial on television. In your commercial, four sisters who love to hunt and kill, and love to work together when they do it, show up wearing orange uniforms, in a big van with a lioness printed on it under the words Lioness Pest Control.

They hunt through a house, working like a pack, to rid that home of mice, rats, snakes, roaches, and termites until there's nothing left.

And I remember your jingle, too:

"For the price of one man,
Call four girls with a plan.
My girls hunt as a pack,
and cut rodents no slack.
But you'll pay a fair price
For a job done real nice.
So if you want the best,
Call Lioness."

So I called and hired your team to come in and take care of a very big mouse problem that I am having. Your girls came to my house, and very quickly told me that they could try to hunt and exterminate the mice, but until I cleaned up my pig-pen of a house, cleaned up the month's worth of dirty dishes, actually bothered to take out my trash, either sold or threw away all my collectables that had reached the ceiling, and discovered that brooms, mops, and vacuums are my friend, that any work they did would be temporary and I would be better off moving, without my stuff, than to call an exterminator.

I called them wimps who were too chickenshit to do the job and asked if they have a man in their company. One of them said "Yeah, we have one man. The secretary."

Still, they agreed to do the job and they hunted and killed the mice, every last one of them, even though they did seem angry about having to wade through and jump over my walking trails of stuff. So everything was fine.

But now a month later, the mice are back, and they've brought their friends the rats. Your ladies didn't do the job right! I demand that you send them back, unpaid, to get rid of my mice and my new rats! And that you bring a man with them to make sure they do it right!

If you don't, I'll go all over social media and complain, and I'll call my lawyer and have him sue you, Miss Pride, for every penny you've got! And I'll also catch all the mice and rats myself, and collect all of my month's worth of garbage, and deposit them all, the mice, the rats, and the trash, in your house! Then I'll watch you and your useless girls as you freak out and scream over all the mice in your house.

SIgned,

Mr. Tras H. Keeper.

[catcul]

Dear Mr. Keeper,

I understand that you have mice and rats at your home. That doesn't sound like a problem to me. As soon as I can get away from my house, I will come by your house and hunt down the mice and rats. I haven't had a good rat dinner since the humans brought me to their home. That rat seller didn't have any rats. Also, could you inform the family of humans that my name is not Fluffy, it's Sampson.

Sincerely,

Sampson, Destroyer of Rats

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Dear Mr. Keeper,

I apologize for the letter from my niece's cat. Fluffy seems to have an inflated opinion of himself.

Unfortunately, my team is absolutely correct when they say that you should clean your house. Dirty dishes and garbage tend to attract mice, rats, roaches, ants, and other pests. Before we come back to your house, you will need to clean up your house. We can recommend cleaning services that will tackle your garbage. If you don't take care of that problem, the rat problem could cause the city to condemn your house. Your house is already a health hazard.

When you decide to have your house cleaned, we'll be there so the rat problem doesn't spread to your neighbors' houses.

Sincerely,

Leona Pride, Owner of Lioness Pest Control

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Dear Bus Company,

How dare you? I was trying to get to the auto repair shop by riding the bus. The rude bus driver told me that I needed to fold my stroller and stow it under my seat. He muttered things like "rolling around" and "blocking the aisle." When I got to my stop, I had to carry my son, my bag, and my stroller. Do you know how difficult it is to carry a baby stroller, a large purse, and a perfectly healthy 7-year-old boy?

I demand that you fire the bus driver and pay for my repair bill so I never have to ride your awful buses.

Sincerely,

Linda Mutti

[purplecat41877]

Dear Ms. Mutti,

The driver was correct when he told you to fold the strolloer and put in under your seat since he was trying to keep everyone safe. Therefore, we won't fire him and you can pay your own repair bill.

Sincerely,

T. R. Avel
Manager



Dear Supermarket Manager,

I went to the self checkout to purchase my groceries and there was a line. I didn't feel like waiting so I walked out with the cart of groceries. You need to tell your employees to serve customers the second they come to the checkout. If you don't, I will take as much as I want from your store and give permission to my friends and family to do the same.

Sincerely,

Will Notwait

[Kristev]

Dear Mr. Notwait,

Why would you possibly walk out? Didn't you notice we compensate for our long lines by offering wine, dancing, cheese, and music? You could have had a wonderful time. Instead you robbed us of groceries by walking out. We consider walking out with over three hundred dollars in groceries to be a serious crime. But we thank you for giving us your address so we know who to send the police to. Have a good day.

Signed,

Betty Knott Steel, Manager of Queue Ball Grocers, where every queue is a ball.

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Dear Cutting Edge Cell Phones,

Yesterday I received, you're not even going to believe this, an obsolete phone call! How dare someone call me from a landline telephone? It's offensive and obscene! I demand that you track this person down and cut off their horrible phone service and tell them to get with today! Landline phones are so 70's!

I also demand that you block all phone numbers that are not from machines made this year or later, and that you give me ten million dollars for the emotional distress I received.

If you won't, I'll just cancel my contract and go straight to your competitor, after I've hacked into your computer networks and downloaded all the information I can, that is.

Signed,

Miss Maude Ern Technophile.

[XCashier]

Dear Miss Technophile,

There are many reasons some folks don't have cellphones. Some, like your grandmother, like the technology they're used to. Some folks don't have the money to afford the most up-to-date gadgets (we are still in a recession, after all). Others are taking their time to do the research to see which model suits their needs. It's hardly fair of you to demand that their landline service be cut off.

While I appreciate your enthusiasm for modern technology, don't you think it was rather mean of you to scream "Get with the 21st Century or I'll kill you!" at your own grandmother? Yes, I heard the whole story at the police station, while your poor grandmother, scared for her life, reported your threats. I gave the policemen your letter, including the return address on the envelope. I hope you like your stay in our local jail, built in 1893 and still solid.

Regards,
Hugh Mandecency
Cutting Edge Cell Phones

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Dear Grocer,

How dare you have that disgusting fat slob cashier working for you! Don't you realize she makes your whole company look bad? Yeah, she's a competent worker, but she's so fat and ugly! Your workers should all be thin and beautiful, nobody wants to look at a fatty. Fire her or I'll sue your store!

Sincerely,
Mr. Cy Zist-Snob

[catcul]

Dear Mr. Zist-Snob,

Diane might be overweight, but she is a hard, honest worker. We had a hot young blonde who kept stealing from us. She was also extremely lazy, too. We don't hire people for their looks. As long as they're well dressed and do their work, we'll keep them on our staff.

As for your lawsuit, try it. You'll be laughed out of court.

Sincerely,

Apple Cherry, High Health Foods

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Dear Banana Grove Mall,

I went to your mall to do some shopping. I entered through the south entrance from the interstate. When I finished, I tried to exit the same way. Imagine my shock when I find out that the way back was CLOSED. I ask the man I saw on the other side of the signs why I couldn't drive through. He said that the bridge was out and I had to exit through the north exit. That meant that I had to drive an extra 2 miles to get back to the interstate.

I demand that you put that bridge back, give me $3 million dollars for the cost of gas and pain and suffering caused by taking the long way out. If you don't, I destroy the north exit so you'll have to hurry fixing the south exit.

Sincerely,

Gertrude P. Snotty