Fun with Complaint Letters






Dear IHOP,

Hello, IHOP. This is a complaint, IHOP. Some time ago I was at your IHOP location in XXXXXX, Illinois, IHOP. Now, this is what happened. It was a 24/7 IHOP and me and the gang (not literal) were a bit giddy over a long night.

To put ourselves in a good mood, we stopped by your establishment around 2am. Has anything normal ever happened at 2am? No. This is important to note. Once your waiter was ready to take our order, both of my friends began laughing uproariously.

Now, I presume your waiter believed they were laughing at his unusual appearance of feminine, flat-ironed hair and his dog collar necklace. Well, they were, but there's no way he could've known. For all he knew, they were stoned on vicious psychoactive drugs (they weren't). As the maturest of the group I restrained any inclination toward laughter. It's also important to note unusual behavior can be seen as silly, and thus laughter can be a reaction to the absurd rather than mockery.

A while later as I'm eating my mushroom omelet and I notice your server sitting at a customer's table across the way giving me the evil eye and proceeding to smirk devilishly. Immediately, I suspected foul play regarding my omelet. He even gave me a weird look when I went to the bathroom. Come on, IHOP. That's not cool, IHOP. At least hook a brother up with a gift card so he can get his next ladydate all worked up over some Belgian waffles from IHOP, IHOP. Grant me a night filled with peaches & cream.

Love,
Hungry for Justice







Hello, Mentos. How ya doing, Mentos? This message regards Fruit Mentos, not your friend Peppermint. Listen, let me state off the bat simply: I like your style. No joke, Mentos. Mint, not so much. Mint doesn't really do it for me. Perhaps because I'm not trying to mix it with Diet Coke and set off a bomb. That's the reason we can't bring liquids on aeroplanes these days, isn't it? Should've just banned Mint Mentos. Granted, isn't the universe trying to tell you something when you mix two acrid flavors together and it literally explodes? There's something to be said about that. Also, I'm not trying to insult you. It's only personal preference. Having been raised Catholic, I like my things a mix of bitter and sweet. Fresh and minty are for the other denominations, sweetness followed by sour lines up with the pleasure-guilt, hurts-so-good complex religion gave me. I'm getting a bit off topic.

But with Fruit Mentos you crafted something special. It's a top three for me, and probably number one. Only Mamba and Red Vines even come close, the latter of which gains extra points for its multi-use capability as an edible straw. There's a glaring problem though, Mentos. I don't know what it is. It may be quality control. Yet sometimes I'll buy a six pack and they'll just be hard as granite. I bite into one of these diamonds and am sent to a parallel existence to ponder why they're as hard as the pebbles they resemble. I wonder why you can't make them of a matter less solid than my teeth? Whatever you're doing to condense these particles please send the data over to the labs at the Large Hadron Collider because they can't even smash atoms together this well.

After you're done corresponding with Michio Kaku and cementing a special with the Discovery Channel please consider doing me a solid (heh, heh) and sending over some of your fresh Fruit Mentos for all the times I've been burned. And I've tried your product in multiple states and the same issue persists, though I will say they seem fresher in the east and get more stale as you move west. You guys still trekking the Oregon Trail for distribution? Save the lives of some oxen and use UPS next time.

Fruit Mentos, you're my number one candy and bullet supplier. Keep up the good work and if you want to let a guy know what it's like to try your product fresh I'm more than willing. You can also send me test products such as the much-awaited Fruit Mentos ice cream, Fruit Mentos pheromone-enhanced cologne and Fruit Mentos muscle car. If you've got a Mentos Mustang pimped out by Xzibit I'm definitely on board for paying the insurance.

Yours truly,
Mental for Mentos

Outcome:










Dear Coke,

Hello, Coke. I love you, Coke. I would give up my girlfriend for you. Problem is I don't have one, and weight gain aside, it might be your fault. I knew a girl who was perfect in every way, in fact she was a lot like Coke: old school, refreshing, satiating, readily available, and with a cool, rough around the edges attitude like carbonation to make her aftertaste that much sweeter. And then one day she ordered a Pepsi. She didn't even qualify it by stating it was a compromise, she seemed at ease with the decision. So, naturally, a resentment began to foster and eventually this led to things falling apart, certainly had nothing to do with neurosis on my end.

But this is about a more serious matter. Some time ago I purchased your product (Coca-Cola) at the local grocer's and it wasn't so hot. It was not only flat, but had some weird flavor to it like my car had been leaking it. On that day, I reckon my gentle tastebuds would've sought the loving arms of the 50/50 mixture of laundry detergent and rat poison known as Royal Crown (RC) cola. I mean, I know a few who swear by RC but I bet they're just doing it because it's hip, cheap, and less mainstream like Pabst Blue Ribbon (PBR). Either that or people are just really into acronyms in these days of text messages and Twitter, and that's why we need a quality product with Classic written into the very name.

Now, this event couldn't have been an error on my part. The expiration date was fresh, but it was in a plastic bottle. Usually I prefer glass, but aluminum works well with my beggars' wages. Plastic breathes which causes problems, meanwhile Mexican Cokes use real sugar. That high-fructose stuff is on that Royal Crown arsenic tip. It might be time for a throwback.

Oh, please, Coke. Make it up with some coupons or some of the delicious liquid you so appropriately call "happiness." Or perhaps one of those Coke can safes to hide my gold in during the upcoming debt-driven societal collapse. Also, if you have any of those shirts that look like stuff Bolivian teenagers in the 1970s would wear, I'm a size medium.

Until the apocalypse,
Happiness consumer


Outcome:









To the manufacturers of Hexbugs,

Dear guys. Also a shout out to the lasses in cahoots with the creation of Hexbugs. Now, I understand you guys are on some NASA-level stuff. Not only with your Franken-creation of fun little bugs, but also its ability for them to flip right up again. You guys oughta make turtle shells. Sell the copyright to God, you'll make a killing!

Over the years I've bought many Hexbug Nanos and given them to nephews, friends, lovers, waiters, you name it. In fact I've kept but one. They are like a universal symbol for peace and work well as tips. If you sent these suckers to Iran with some sort of democratic emblem on their backs, in a couple decades I bet the nation would come around after a youth revolt or two (not that we can afford to wait that long).

The problem is that they're a bit pricey, especially considering these things can't even have the mechanical complexity of a dollar store electronic toothbrush. If you could do me the honor of providing some free, I will spread the positive energy of like a swarm of Hexbugs working their way past the Savannah. Send as many as you can, I beg of you. I don't care if they're a batch all misprinted or disfigured. It merely stands as a sort of calling.

I seek to become a hammer of justice, a harbinger of karmic righteous. This is all predicated on a vision, a dream, a premonition. An image where I sit upon a throne surrounded by elders, where women and children approach and state their daily hardship or current illness, in hopes I decide to bless them and bestow the merciful charity of an electronic insect into their otherwise dull lives. I seek to see the illuminated faces of fathers as I grant their wish of a bouquet of Hexbugs to serve as a dowry on their daughter's wedding.

And they will be treated as children, extensions of my being, a legion under command but all equal, and successors each to decades worth of moral fortitude and spiritual enrichment. Also, I can't wait for a solar-powered series. Please make that happen.

Sincerely,
Lord of the Hexbugs

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