Dearest McDonalds, Subway, Taco Bell, KFC, Pizza Hut, etc.,
It's not just you. It's me. I've only been using you to get what I want, and paying you for it to boot. I'm not proud of it, but it's who I am.
This whole thing started innocently enough. You knew that the way to my heart was through my rather ample stomach. To be honest, I think that you exploited that. You've made it SO easy. Now, I don't even have to let my engine idle at the speaker, because by the time I've pulled up, I've already ordered my food. The payment is handled electronically, I receive my bounty with grateful hands, and then I'm on my way. This is really where I need the relationship to end. I don't want to have to cuddle afterwards.
Honestly, I'm wearied by your continued correspondence. You know what I mean. The little notes in my e-mail, asking how it was for me. Was my food hot enough? Was the order accurate? Were my shrubs well-pruned? My attendants courteous? Would I recommend you to my friends? On a scale of 1-10?
Even THAT'S not enough. Sometimes, you want me to write a little essay on how I can make the whole thing even better.
Because I care, a word of advice. You're coming across as needy. It's so beneath you. How about this? I will order the food. You will make the food. I will pay for the food. And then, let's agree to part as friends until our next cheap, tawdry transaction. Neat and clean. Please don't send me little e-mails offering me a free McMuffin in exchange for a ten minute survey. I haven't the time.
Honestly, I've become commitment shy once you've run out of eggs during breakfast and request exact change all day.
And as you can tell from my salutation, I'm already seeing other restaurants.
Sincerely,
Bill Wilson
