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Maytag Customer Service April 2, 2010 Dear Maytag,
Okay, so it doesn’t seem like a big deal, right, when I go around telling people I’m the mayor of Upper Yorkshire, NJ. You can’t research a town that doesn’t exist. Forget when I told those diamond prospectors I was president of Hugoslavia (founded by Yugo’s brother). And I think the waitress at IHOP or something thinks I’m a five-and-a-half star general, but whatever. Maybe also the guy who mows my lawn knows me as governor of Westphalia, and all my FedEx mail comes to Paradiso de Aragon, Freeholder de Spain y de Wyoming. But listen, I’m not here to tell you all that. My main concern is your washing machines. I’ve got people over, actual legitimate governors and senators and people, for this party I’m having. A delicate situation, you can be sure. Half of them think I’m somebody, the other half think I’m somebody else, and there are more halves after that. My live-in butler keeps tabs on who thinks what, informs me now and again how I should greet this or that consulate general, you know. Incidentally the butler thinks I’m a higher-up in the People’s Republic of China. Trick is to not be too specific, like saying you’re Benito Mussolini isn’t a good idea, you don’t want people saying you died in 1945, but if you’re the current Italian prime minister’s nephew you’re in the green. Naturally at this gala we’ve got all kinds of hors d’oeuvres, fancy wines, things like that. China plates and glasses all around. My butler’s busy with those index cards, like on the front of one it will say “Vladimir Putin” and on the back “He thinks you’re Assistant Vice-President of Swaziland.” I’ve only got one butler so I’ve been loading people’s dishes every once in a while. Can’t have a full sink at a gala. Listen, your washing machine broke all my china, it’s all shards and slivers. It’s not like I have a salary for being the Latvian Postmaster General. Never been to Latvia. I can’t afford infinity sets of china whenever this happens, and also the wineglasses were a gift from a member of the Finnish cabinet, and the gravy boat was from Hirohito’s grandson. This is a washing machine, so I assumed it washed things. Worst part is, between wet shards and dry shards, I prefer dry, so I put the broken pieces in the dryer and they just went to bits. Then Sarkozy wants more Château Haute-Brion and I have to slip him the Queen’s old glass when he isn’t paying attention. Man, can that Queen drink. So anyway, I was wondering what’s up with your washers and dryers. I got your top models, don’t think they’re defective as far as I know. China’s gone, though, and I’ve got another gala. Kim Jong Il RSVP’d. I’m serious about that. Can’t just have no china when North Korea shows up. Maybe you could talk to the engineers who invented these contraptions, give them a ring, ask them why the china might’ve shattered. Tell them I’m the Israeli secretary of energy, though, I don’t want any suspicion.
Sincerely,
Kevin Dickinson |
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