An Unlikely Post
Bully for you for striving! And I’m so glad that you are in the process of making changes to improve your service. Maybe in another 100 years you’ll sort out some of the more complicated details of balloon delivery.
What a load of tepid corporate drivel. Here are my suggestions for what would have been a better response:
1. How about a refund?
2. I’m not even talking full refund. How about a refund of the service charge for the butt-scratching knuckle dragger who didn’t manage to deliver the balloons until late afternoon and did not even bother trying to locate the person they were sent to?
3. Dear “floral industry leader” — would it have killed you to send me . . . oh, I dunno, how about . . . a nice big “We’re Sorry” bouquet?
4. A small, cheap vase of carnations and baby’s breath?
5. The photograph of flowers is very nice but it just makes me feel as if I deserve pink roses. And a better apology.
6. A coupon? Even a crappy 10% off my next order? I probably wouldn’t have used it. It probably would have expired a year from now crumpled up in the bottom of my purse. But it would have been nice. (And you would have stayed off my Schmidt List.)
7. While apologizing, might I suggest you skip the request for my permission to send me more junk email?
8. Spare me the passive-aggressive self-promotion. Don’t tell me you’re sorry I’m disappointed. Tell me you’re sorry that you screwed up.
9. Nothing. Doing nothing would have been better than sending me the politically correct corporate equivalent of an “up yours!”
10. Baldassaro? Really? (tee hee)
Okay, I now need to go unsubscribe from their exclusive offers and updates.
Beth Schmidt began writing at age 8, when she penned the story Kooky House. Unfortunately, she spelled it Cookie House and readers completely misunderstood. As spelling and grammar improved, she did a stint composing very dramatic teenage poetry before going on to earn a writing degree. Subsequently, she has supported her writing habit by taking on various jobs in ad agencies and corporations in the Pittsburgh area. Life Preservers is one woman’s view about the things that keep us afloat: family, friends, community, humor. And sometimes cussing.