This weekend I empowered myself as a consumer and emailed complaints to five of America's largest restaurant chains. It is my hope that these hotly worded missives find their way to the right people in the corporate offices and I effect some real change.
My adventure began with an email to breakfast dining favorite and sausage manufacturer Bob Evans.
Hi Bob Evans,
I had a disappointing experience. I went to your restaurant for a blueberry pancake and all I got was a headache. There was a loose hound dog by itself in your parking lot. All he did was stare at me. I couldn't look away.
I don't know whose dog he was or what he wanted. He was white with black and brown spots and racing stripes up the side. He seemed really smart for a dog and very sad and the way he was looking at me made me sad. After all I did get a blueberry flapjack, but with the dog staring at me it tasted like bitter blueberry ashes in my mouth.
When I left the restaurant the dog was gone. Who was that dog and why was he staring at me? Do you know if he was a real dog?
Thanks in advance I love your pork gobblers.
I have never liked Pizza Hut, but that doesn't mean Pizza Hut should be excluded from this list. Every restaurant chain deserves a smidgen of my gastronomical wisdom.
Dear Pizza Hut,
I regret to inform you by way of this letter that I had an unsatisfactory experience at one of your establishments. I was waiting in the restaurant for my carry out order when I was approached by a man wearing a rawhide jerkin and floral culottes. He introduced himself as Byront and he asked if I wanted to buy a kitchen set from him. It just so happened that I did need a kitchen set so I bade him wait and collected my pizza from the counter.
When I exited the store he showed me to a pickup truck and the back was full of chairs. He told me that for 200 dollars he would drives the kitchen set over to my house and unload it for me. I said okay. It took him almost an hour to arrive and the kitchen set was not a set it was 11 irregular chairs. I told him I wasn't going to pay for that and he stared at me really mean and then slapped my pizza box out of my hand.
The pizza was mostly gone because I had been waiting on the steps outside for so long I got hungry, but it ruined two pieces of pizza and gently sprained my wrist. For that I demand satisfaction.
The ball is in your court now. Let us see if you really are the "Pizza Hut" you so claim to be.
By the way, your tuna stuffed crust pizza is the best in town.
Hows about you, me, and five uncomfortable minutes in my basement apartment next to the dusty Christmas tree that's still up from my last visit with my estranged children.
The Upper Kitchen Cabinet Where Your Roommate Keeps His Food: You’ll 'need the footstool' to reach your roommate’s 'fine selection' of 'stale cereal,' but he'll never notice if 'only a little is missing from each box.' Feel less guilty by reminding yourself that Jeff 'acts weird around your girlfriend,' and always 'asks about her.' What a 'creep.'
This ain't your daddy's globe...! .... or is it?!
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