……………meh….
It was a pretty intimidating envelope. It was an Official Looking Blue, and the face side was all window. Other than my name and address at the lower right, in an unobtrusive plain vanilla font, the majority of the available acreage was devoted to a LARGE, BOLD, ALL-CAP finger pointed right between my eyes informing me that THIS IS YOUR FOURTH RENEWAL NOTICE.
Son of a Bitch! I figured life as I had known it was about to cease and desist momentarily, and the only thing I could do was pray, which I haven’t done since the Big Bang, or do EXACTLY as I was told, which isn’t my style either. What a quandary!
I opened the envelope to learn the nature of my impending doom, resulting from my having failed to renew…..obviously…..some #@&% magazine subscription before the ink was dry on my check paying for the FIRST go-around. Amazing. Neither my father, my commanding officer, nor many of my former employers ever got beyond ONE in a three-count to death and dismemberment. This magazine was already up to FOUR.
What dumb asses.
I mean, what are they going to do? Stop sending me their rag, which is paid for through next February anyway? I breath oxygen, not high gloss paper. Not to mention, it is I who does THEM a favor in this trade agreement, not the other way around. It’s not like they are CHINA, y’know.
I pondered my dilemma for a nanosecond and made the sentinel decision to file my FOURTH notice right there with notices ONE, TWO, and THREE in the shredder under my desk. Except for the self addressed, postage paid envelope which they had graciously enclosed. I have plans for that. A copy of this little essay. Too bad the envelope doesn’t have a nice big glassine window. I’d gladly decorate the address area with a digital representation of my derriere. Even I wouldn’t want to see that coming at me!
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By a Damsite 