Dear Product Marketing Stalker:

I see you.  And hear you yapping at me while I am standing in the cereal aisle trying to buy a box of flakes.  I have made an effort to come to the food side of your discount store early this morning to avoid the onrush of carts going up and down aisles crashing into each other, children screaming because they don’t like walking, and blue-tooth clad idiots that ignore me and take the last carton of Half and Half as I reach for it.  The early morning hours of shopping are less stressful or they were until you decided to critique my breakfast choices.

Me: (reaching for a box of Honey Nut Cheerios)

You: Unh-Unh.

Me: (looking in your direction wondering if that noise was meant for me.)

You: (smiling) Ma’am, we make the same product for half the cost.  You should really choose our Circles of Honey.  Same company.  Same cereal, you know what I mean (wink).

Me: (smiling and thinking you’re just trying to be helpful.) Right. (I continue down the aisle looking for the right box)

You: (following me in your Jazzy Electric and almost hitting my shins) You don’t want that one either.  We’ve got this one that’s just as good.  Especially if you’re interested in fiber.

Me: (getting annoyed and realizing that I don’t want to discuss with you my interest in fiber) Thanks for the tips (Hoping you’ll go start your inventory on the pickle aisle and leave me alone).

You: May I suggest our Vampire Choco-Bones?  Goes over great with the kids.

Me: No!  Do you see children with me?  Do you think I just left them in the car?  In the trunk, perhaps?  I don’t have children.  And look at this box.  A vampire with bloody teeth eating brown bones from a bowl.  How does that make any sense?  What makes you think that this, THIS is the cereal for a woman like me?  What tipped you off?  Was it my pale skin?  My dead eyes?  My fangs?!

At this point, I notice the other woman walking the aisle with her small son sitting in the cart.  I look at him and say, “Don’t judge me with your judging eyes.”  You see?  You made me take my aggravation with you out on an innocent albeit a somewhat beady-eyed child.  And now my eczema is attacking up.  Is this your idea of customer service?  Bugging a customer to the point of verbally slaying a little kid and causing skin rash break-outs?  He’s probably going to grow up to be a serial killer because of your pushyness.  Now, I’ll have to send him twenty bucks every year on his birthday to remind him not to kill me. 

So thanks, but no thanks for all of your “help.”


~Your No. 1 Fan if by “Fan” you mean “Someone Who Hates You.”

[I like to call this “slightly stretched truth.” Some call it fiction.  We’ll call it fiction based on a true story, okay?]