Long-Term Pregnancy Side Effect

Well, I was told that there could be a number of long-term side effects of my pregnancy. "You know, your feet are going to grow don't you?" my husband taunted me (didn't happen). "You'll never get back to your pre-baby weight" challenged many (still to be seen...I haven't given up the dream yet). But no on warned me that my compulsion to write letters to businesses would still be driving me 5 months after Langston's birth.

Full of irritable pregnancy, my first letter was to Duncan Donuts. There I was, at the drive-through one sultry evening, following-up on a craving for mint chip ice cream (make mine a double!) My math skills aren't the sharpest but even I can calculate the tax on $2.99. So, when the high school clerk at that window charged me $3.39 I cried foul. "That's just not right," I said. "Uh...what?" the brainiac replied. "That isn't right...tax should be 18 cents on that purchase...the total should be $3.17 not $3.39." "Um...well...when I put it into the machine it comes up $3.39...so...uh...that's what I have to charge you." "But it's not right...that's an overcharge!" "Well...um...that's what the machine comes up with...um...yeah...some other people have complained too." I continued to sputter that it just wasn't right even as I counted the coins into his hand (I mean...it was a pretty serious craving). Even with the help of the ic cream my temperature continued to rise. It was against the law is what it was. It was cheating. It was totally wrong. It was 22 cents ripped off! Even when Jeff said, "Darlin...get some perspective...it's just 22 cents" I could not be satisfied. So, I wrote the parent company that franchises the Duncan Donuts outlets to complain. And they sent me an apology and a coupon for 2 free ice cream cones. I was hooked. I can't say I've gotten any more coupons but I have to admit that I totally understood when a friend took the time to complain on-line to the owners of the Moe's franchise...seems that their catch-phrase, "welcome to Moe's!" was being called out in a less than welcoming way upon his entrance. Hey, just saying it doesn't count. You have to say it like you mean it. Or at least fake it better. In fact, the more I think about it, the sorrier I am that I didn't think to write in first.

I thought it was just the pregnancy hormones making me more irritable, compelling me to write a complaint letter. But, it's not just complaints I couldn't help writing. I was also driven to write a charming letter to Value City. I bought a formal dress there for an event I had to attend on behalf of Steelcase. It was a simple red dress that was not only tasteful and elegant...but it was only $19.99! I thought I wrote the cleverest note. It was a gem of a little thank you note that included just the right balance of humor and appreciation. I thought that maybe they had a monthly contest for the best customer letter. Maybe they would post it on their website. Maybe they'd send me a coupon or ask if they could quote me in a catalog. I got nothing. Not even a confirmation that they'd received my letter. Makes me want to write again and complain.

After 5 months my hormone levels should be back to normal but the compulsion to make my opinions formally known remains. I still have a pretty long list of letters to write. I could start with the Grand Rapids police department. I live near an intersection that I have to go through several times a day -- going to work, coming home from work, going shopping, etc. It's pretty much unavoidable. The thing is, the shameless red light running is going to get me killed one day. I've never seen a light that is so red that one or several boobs heading east or west (or both) through the intersection won't run it. I mean, it's ridiculous. The light had turned green for me and I was the first car to head into the intersection one morning. Even after counting like 3 beats after the light turned green and after looking both right and left I still barely avoided being slammed by some SUV speeding through the red. I know that catching a speeder is an easy ticket. But really...is someone going 45 in a 35 really posing that great of a threat? Is someone likely to be killed or even maimed because of it? Not really. But, if some semi burns through a red light and buries my poor Buick...I'm likely not to walk away from it. And talk about an easy ticket! Just sit there at the Chow Hound on the corner and sharpen your pencil!

And then there's Dick's. The Saturday before Christmas Jeff and I are in this miserable long line at Dick's sporting goods and out of nowhere the cashier tells us all that she is leaving for a little bit to go back to the stock room and pick up some boxes. Are you kidding me? Was there any value added to that proposition? We were all incredulous. I find it hard to believe that there was anything more important to Dick's than their minimum wage clerks ringing up the sales that day. Out of protest we changed lanes. Even if it ended up taking longer we at least made a statement. But, we were walking out the door and the cashier was still MIA. Good grief. That's customer service.

And what's the deal with stores demanding everything short of a blood sample to give you a store credit? Jeff was returning a couple of items to Macy's a few weeks ago. We had the gift receipt, the items had never been used and still had the tags. We were told that he would be issued an in-store credit. But before she could issue it she would need his driver's license number, address and phone number. WHY? We had the receipt, the items were obviously unused, no cash was changing hands...what exactly was the risk to Macy's? None. It was just to add our name to some mailing list. I hate that! Why does a store get to know all this personal information just because I'm shopping there? The letter practically writes itself.

And that's just the beginning. My pen is inked up and ready to make my complaints known or to share the love (should I actually have a good experience!)

Have you had a bad experience and need to gripe? Or even a good experience but you never took the time to write in? Give me a holler. Maybe I'll just write the letter for you. Hey, if I get a coupon I'll share it with you.