I sent this in last week. Haven’t heard anything back, but that’s ok, I got my money’s worth:

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark Staples. First off, I’m mad. I’m as mad as the sea and wind when both contend which is the mightier. It’s not your fault though, so breathe easy. But I’ll apologize in advance about my passive-aggressive tone. It came with my smarmy haircut and now I can’t return it, and it gets worse when I’m cranky.

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I am working on a mortgage, but the incompetence of my lawyer and mortgage broker combined have driven me to the edge of sanity. To make an extremely long story short everyone is an idiot except me, and neither one of them could tell a hawk from a handsaw. Ultimately the situation required me to print some documents off in colour, so I came in to your establishment to do so. Now, being a pretty computer-savvy guy I figured I would just stroll in there and bypass the old lady carefully counting change on the counter while telling your lovely customer service representative about her three cats and the hilarious (read: not hilarious) situations they find themselves in. I went to pay on your self-serve kiosks but there was no option for anything but a credit card. I just cut them up, because my friend Bill told me that borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. So I had to go back to the counter. The old lady was STILL COUNTING CHANGE. I honestly thought I might be in a Wes Anderson movie it was so tastefully cliché. She did turn around and apologize, but if you ask me the lady doth protest too much.

So now I’m making eyes at your customer service representative and in my head we are having a hilarious exchange about this old lady but then when I finally get up there the imagined camaraderie and rapport we had developed revealed itself to be just that: entirely imagined. I don’t think she liked my smarmy haircut. I mean I tried to smile, but one may smile and smile and be a villain I suppose. So I explain my situation. Need to print 5 pages off. She prints them off, I take a few selfies, and then she comes back and rings me in. $5.83. Now, I don’t really care. Though I did just cut up my credit cards, I still spend money like a millionaire with ten minutes to live, so whatever. But I had to make a cheeky comment about it (guessing you’re seeing that’s in my nature by now), so I did, and she informs me that there was a $3.00 ‘talking to a human’ fee. Haha, so I guess the old lady was just getting her money’s worth. Honestly, that’s all I’m doing now too. Perhaps there was even a way to pay with cash or debit at that machine and I didn’t notice, maybe there was a giant sign that said you have to pay $3.00 to talk to a human, I dunno I didn’t notice and I really don’t care. I just figure that Staples had to pay someone to read this entire email, so now I feel like I got my $3.00 worth. There is nothing I am asking for, nor is there any necessary follow-up on your part, I guess I’m just sort of a jerk. Thanks!

PS – I’m reading Hamlet. I used 6 quotes in here for kicks because I’m really self-indulgent.

Jp, a fellow of infinite jest.