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August 20, 2006
Party City 1500 Almonesson Road Deptford, NJ 08096
Dear Party City,
I am a 41 year old bachelor with only one friend (my goldfish Nigel). I knew a couple of kids in high school, though. Well, I knew who they were, I didn’t exactly know them. As you may have guessed already, I am not exactly the most popular person in my apartment building. I have thick circular glasses and a comb-over, and until recently (when I was watching a fashion show on television) I didn’t realize it is not “hip” to wear suspenders and a tie over a stained white t-shirt.
I work for a company that manufactures filing cabinets. I file away important filing cabinet invoices in filing cabinets manufactured by my company. It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it. I am important!!! They pay me $8.00 an hour. They don’t pay that amount to just anybody. Apart from my job, though, I really only watch T.V. (and sleep). The other day I was watching MTV and realized how much people like to party, when it hit me… I should throw a party for my apartment building to make new friends!
The problem was, however, that I had never thrown a party in my life. Actually, I have never been to a party, been invited to one, or even known someone whose cousin was invited to a party. But I watch a lot of T.V., so I know exactly how the world works, and what people like.
After picking up a vanilla cake, some Lays chips, and RC Cola (it’s cheaper than Coke) I went to your Party City™ (please don’t sue me for using the name!!) store last month. It was the first time I had gone anywhere besides my job for over three weeks. I looked around and saw the massive selection of party implements and provisions you offer. If I had that many items in my apartment I’d suffocate and no one would find my body for a long time.
I know (from commercials) what’s cool and what’s not. So I picked out Batman™ plates, a Hello Kitty™ tablecloth, and orange balloons™ (to match my suspenders). I got all different colors of streamers! They are a sensation at any party. I really hoped they wouldn’t fall because I was only going to use store-brand adhesive tape. (Larry, my landlord, will throw a fit if there is missing paint anywhere!)
I knew my party was going to be a hit (especially with the ladies :) because I have Hungry Hungry Hippos, Scrabble, and sliced bologna. Seriously, who doesn’t love sliced bologna?
I am writing this letter to let you know that your products do not work! Some of the other tenants arrived at my party (12pm-2pm) but left immediately! They said things like, “Where’s the booze!?” and “Seriously, where is the damn booze!?!” I told them total abstention is the only way to go, and that alcoholism is an addiction that can result in cirrhosis of the liver, and they gave me a mean look! It didn’t help that I started to cry and I threw the remote at them for being cruel.
My guests (all three) obviously didn’t like the Batman plates or the Hello Kitty tablecloth, or they would have stayed until we were all partied out (at 2pm on the dot).
What is your refund policy? I have the receipt still, but I didn’t want to make the trip to your store unless I was sure I could return these items (I am a busy man with many channels to watch). I await your response.
Sincerely,
Kevin Dickinson |
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October 9, 2006 2:51pm
Party City 1500 Almonesson Road Deptford, NJ 08096
Dear Party City,
Since my last letter, it has been 2:51pm on fifty separate occasions. This is far too long to be waiting for a response. Your customer service is one teaspoon short of an evening at the theater, if you know what I mean. It’s one crayon short of a crayon warehouse. One tequila short of a holding company. One yolk short of a batch of chickens. You get the point.
I wrote to you concerning my lack of a social life, and how your terrible products failed to procure me some new friends. As you may recall, I threw a party for all the tenants in my building and hardly anyone showed up, even with my Superman napkins securely in place atop the Hello Kitty tablecloth. But I figured out exactly why no one befriended me on that horrible day: there was no mother-@&$%*!# booze. Newt Gingrich lives on the 15th floor, and when he arrived at my party, he remarked upon the lack of alcohol. At the time, I thought it was an empty taunt, but have since realized that in order to have friends, I have to be completely plastered 24-7. Right now I am sober, but only so I can write this letter clearly. After I am done, I plan to chug three whole bottles of vodka and eat 19 of my magical mushrooms.
As soon as I start drinking, all my friends appear. There’s Jerry the Enchanted Magical Ghost, and his brother who is a talking fire hydrant. Sometimes my armchair starts talking to me. He tells funny stories about the time he was in a car accident. Last night I found pictures of myself on the Internet that I did not know about. I was running around in a dress, wearing the Hello Kitty tablecloth I got at Party City on my head like a shawl. The other picture is me spray painting a nun green.
Do you see? I don’t need your fancy products, with their licensed Disney characters, to make friends! I have many, many friends now, who visit me whenever I want them to. However, I do lack one thing: a Halloween costume. I want to go trick or treating as Tinker Bell this year. Do you sell this costume? I will bring my American dollars to your store. Let me know!
Sincerely,
Kevin Dickinson |
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