[5199] in Central_America
New quotes for Thu Nov 25
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Central America)
Thu Nov 25 06:14:24 1993
Date: Thu, 25 Nov 1993 06:13:44 -0500
From: Central America <root@charon.MIT.EDU>
To: ca-mtg@charon.MIT.EDU
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amarcin (Bret Aarden):
"I have from an early age abjured the use of meat, and the time will
come when men such as I will look upon the killing of animals as they
now look upon the killing of men." - Leonardo da Vinci
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jtkohl (John T Kohl):
%\documentstyle[newlet,personal,ncs,12pt,margins,zipbar]{letter}
\documentstyle[newlet,12pt,ncs,margins,zipbar]{letter}
\stdsizes
\begin{document}
\address{8 Lorne Road \\ Arlington, MA~~02174}
\signature{John T. Kohl}
\begin{letter}{Mike Dwyer, Store Manager \\ Circuit City \\ 84 Middlesex Turnpike \\
Burlington, MA~~01803}
\opening{Dear Mr. Dwyer,}
I am writing to relate the unsatisfactory home delivery service on a
clothes washer and dryer I purchased from your Burlington store.
I purchased the washer and dryer, with the assistance of Sales Counselor
Terry Layden, on October 10, 1993. The ticket number on the order is
\verb+411200110234+. At that time, I explicitly requested delivery of
the items to my new house in Arlington (which I was in the process of
purchasing at the time). I also reviewed with Terry the need for an
extra-long washer discharge hose to reach the drain in my house.
About a week after purchase I arranged for a home delivery date of
November 24, 1993.
On November 23, the day before delivery, I telephoned the home delivery
warehouse in Franklin, MA, to request an early morning delivery. They
noted the request, but stated that they couldn't guarantee it, and asked
that I call back after 5pm to check on the delivery time (since I was
not reachable by phone that evening). When checking the delivery
schedule, the agent on the phone said the delivery was scheduled for my
old address (in North Billerica). I asked her to correct the delivery
location, and I called back about 20 minutes later and verified the
delivery location and was told that the delivery would fall somewhere
between 10am and 2pm.
When 2:00 came and went, I telephoned the delivery center, to find out
about the order. Not surprisingly, the truck was running late. It was
not until approximately 2:05pm that the truck finally showed up at my
house.
When I complained to the driver about his being late, he complained at
me about having the delivery location changed from North Billerica to
Arlington.
He and his assistant appeared to be in a rush. When they went to move
the dryer into my house, they scraped the front and top against the door
closer on the basement storm door. Since the dryer would not go in with
the closer installed, they temporarily removed the closer to allow the
dryer to fit. The washer was carried into the house without incident.
While assembling the washer, the driver's assistant was working on the
water supply hoses. He appeared to be in a rush, and accidentally
discharged some water onto my basement floor while attempting to tighten
the hose connections to the faucets. I did not have a mop at the house
to clean up, as I have not fully moved in yet.
At this point, it became apparent that there was no extra-long discharge
hose for the washer, and it could not be completely installed as a
result. The driver stated that he did not have an extra-long hose in
the truck, as Terry Layton had said she would arrange.
The driver then asked me to sign the delivery receipt, which I did not
do, as the dryer had not been assembled yet; it still required
installation of leveling legs. After that assembly, the driver again
asked me to sign the receipt. I again refused, as I had not been able
to test either the washer or dryer. After plugging in the dryer (a gas
model, so I couldn't test the heat) and verifying that the drum worked,
I finally signed the delivery receipt, but marked it ``service
unacceptable'' because of the variety of problems listed herein.
After the delivery truck departed, I telephoned the home delivery center
in Franklin and explained the problems I encountered. They agreed to
adjust my account \$30 for the scratched dryer. They also agreed to
telephone the Burlington store and have the department manager and/or my
sales counselor find a solution to the discharge hose length problem.
After I arrived at work that afternoon, I called again to check on the
solution. The agent in Franklin said she had talked to the store, and
that someone at the store would be calling me. She said she would call
the store again. I did not hear back from any store personnel that
afternoon or evening.
At around 8:00pm I arrived at the Burlington store, hopeful that
something might have been arranged. Unfortunately, neither the
department manager or Terry were in the store, and the sales counselors
in the department weren't able to find a proper discharge hose for me.
In an independent effort to find a proper hose or some solution to the
problem, I checked with another department store nearby, but that store
did not have any parts or hoses that would solve the problem.
As of this writing, I do not have an acceptable discharge hose for my
washer. I hold no hope of Circuit City being able to provide me with
one in a timely fashion, as neither the Burlington store nor the
Franklin warehouse have the proper hose.
After the Thanksgiving holiday, I fully intend to find a proper hose
from an appliance part store, and send a bill to your store for
reimbursement. I will not consider the sale completed in good faith
until I have a properly installed washer. I will also call the ``Cool
Line'' noted on my receipt documentation and relate this story.
The dryer is apparently properly installed but for natural gas service.
I have made arrangements with a licensed plumber to install the gas and
vent hose for the dryer. I fully expected this to be my responsibility
upon purchase, so I find the dryer acceptable (less the scratches
inflicted upon delivery).
In summary, I find the following items to be inexcusable from a company
which claims that ``Service is State of the Art:''
\begin{enumerate}
\item The incorrect delivery address was provided to the home delivery
center; only my fortuitous calls to verify delivery time prevented
delivery to the wrong address.
\item Your driver arrived outside the time range provided me by the
delivery center. I had to miss about an extra hour of work due to the
late delivery. When your agents say ``delivery between 10 and 2,'' I
expect that to mean that delivery will be complete and satisfactory by
2. It was neither. Since your time windows are incorrect, I am led to
pre-judge your other promises as vacuous.
\item Your driver was curt and pushy. He was apparently not interested
in customer service, but rather in emptying his truck.
\item Your driver and his assistant scratched the front and top of my
dryer. I expect a brand-new washer and dryer to be delivered in
excellent condition, not mediocre condition.
\item Your driver's assistant, in a rush to complete the installation,
spilled cold water from the tap onto the floor
\item The incorrect-length discharge hose was delivered with the washer,
and as a result the washer was not completely installed.
\end{enumerate}
From this experience, I have a clear message to communicate to all my
friends and acquaintances: Don't buy anything from Circuit City that
requires home delivery.
I would be glad to discuss this in further detail if you wish. I will
be discussing this with the ``Cool Line'' when they reopen after the
holiday. My daytime phone (weekdays) is \verb+(508) 650-5158+.
\closing{Yours in utter disgust,}
\end{letter}
\end{document}
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sethf (Seth Finkelstein):
[It's that time of year again]
Alice's Restaurant
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Spoken: This song is called "Alice's Restaurant." It's about Alice and the
restaurant, but Alice's Restaurant is not the name of the restaurant; that's
just the name of the song, and that's why I call the song "Alice's Restaurant."
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant. You can get anything you
want at Alice's Restaurant. Walk right in, it's around the back, just a half
a mile from the railroad track; you can get anything you want at Alice's
Restaurant.
Now it all started two Thanksgivings ago--two years ago, on Thanksgiving, when
my friend and I went up to visit Alice at the restaurant.
But Alice doesn't live IN the restaurant, she lives in the church nearby the
Restaurant, in the bell tower with her husband Ray and Fancha, the dog.
And livin' in the bell tower like that, they got a lot of room downstairs where
the pews used to be, and havin' all that room (seein' as how they took out all
the pews), they decided that they didn't have to take out their garbage for a
long time.
We got up there and found all the garbage in there and we decided that it'd be
a friendly gesture for us to take the garbage down to the city dump.
So we took the half-a-ton of garbage, put it in the back of a red VW microbus,
took shovels and rakes and implements of destruction, and headen on toward the
city dump.
Well, we got there and there was a big sign and a chain across the dump sayin',
"THIS DUMP IS CLOSED ON THANKSGIVING," and we'd never heard of a dump closed
on Thanksgiving before, and with tears in our eyes, we drove off into the
sunset lookin' for another place to put the garbage.
We didn't find one till we came to a side road, and off the side of the road
was another fifteen-foot cliff, and at the botton of the cliff was another
pile of garbage. And we decided that one big pile was better than two little
piles, and rather than bring that one up, we decided to throw ours down.
That's what we did.
Drove back to the church, had a Thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat,
went to sleep, and didn't get up until the next morning, when we got a phone
call from Officer Obie. He said, "Kid, we found your name on an envelope at
the bottom of a half ton of garbage and I just wanted to know if you had any
information about it."
And I said, "Yes sir, Officer Obie, I cannot tell a lie. I put that envelope
under that garbage." After speakin' to Obie for about forty-five minutes on
the telephone, we finally arrived at the truth of the matter and he said that
we had to go down and pick up the garbage, and also had to go down and speak
to him at the Police Officer Station. So we got in the red VW microbus with
the shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the
Police Officer Station.
Now, friends, there was only one of two things that Obie could've done at the
Police Officer Station, and the first was that he could've give us a medal
for bein' so brave and honest on the telephone (which wan't very likely, and
we didn't expect it).
And the other thing was that he could've bawled us out and never to be seen'
drivin' garbage around in the vicinity again, which is what we expected.
But when we got to the Police Officer Station, there was a THIRD possibility
that we hadn't even counted upon, and we was both immediately arrested,
handcuffed, and I said, "Obie, I can't pick up the garbage with these here
handcuffes on."
He said: "Shut up, Kid, and get in the back of the patrol car." And that's
what we did--sat in the back of the patrol car, and drove to the quote
SCENE OF THE CRIME unquote.
I wanna tell you 'bout the town of Stockbridge, Massachusetts, where this
is happenin'. They got three stop signs, two police officers, and one
police car, but when we got to the scene of the crime, there was FIVE
police officers and THREE police cars, bein' the biggest crime of the last
fifty years and everybody wanted to get in the newspaper story about it.
And they was usin' up all kinds of cop equipment that they had hangin'
around the Police Officer Station. They was takin' plaster tire tracks,
footprints, dog-smellin' prints, and they took twenty-seven 8 by 10 colored
glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of
each one explainin' what each one was, to be used as evidence against us.
Took pictures of the approach, the getaway, the northwest corner, the
southwest corner--and that's not to mention the aerial photography!
After the ordeal, we went back to the jail. Obie said he was gonna put us in
a cell. He said, "Kid--I'm gonna put you in a cell. I want your wallet and
your belt."
I said, "Obie, I can understand your wantin' my wallet, so I don't have any
money to spend in the cell, but what do you want my belt for?" And he said,
"Kid, we don't want any hangin's."
I said. "Obie, did you think I was gonna hang myself for litterin'?" Obie said
he was makin' sure, and, friends, Obie was, 'cause he took out the toilet seat
so I couldn't hit myself over the head and drown.
And he took out the toilet paper so I couldn't bend the bars, roll the toilet
paper out the window, slide down the roll and have an escape. Obie was makin'
sure.
It was about four or five hours later that Alice--(remember Alice? There's
a song about Alice) Alice came by and, with a few nasty words to Obie on the
side, bailed us out of jail, and we went back to the church, had another
Thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat.
And didn't get up until the next mornin' when we all had to go to court. We
walked in, sat down, Obie came in with the twenty-seven 8 x 10 colored glossy
pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one,
sat down.
Man came in, said "All rise!" We all stood up, and Obie stood up with the
twenty-seven 8 x 10 colored glossy pictures, and the judge walked in, sat
down, with a seein' eye dog and HE sat down. We sat down.
Obie looked at the seein' eye dog--then at the twenty-seven 8 x 10 colored
glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of
each one and began to cry.
Because Obie came to the realization that it was a typical case of American
blind justice, and there wasn't nothin' he could do about it, and the judge
wasn't gonna look at the twenty-even 8 x 10 coloered glossy pictures with the
circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what
each one was, to be used as evidence against us.
And we was fined fifty dollars and had to pick up the garbage--in the snow.
But that's not what I'm here to tell you about. I'm here to talk about the
draft.
They got a buildin' down in New York City called Whitehall Street, where you
walk in, you get injected, inspected, detected, infected, neglected and
selected!
I went down and got my physical examination one day, and I walked in, sat
down (got good and drunk the night before, so I looked and felt my best when
I went in the mornin', 'cause I wanted to look like the All-American-Kid from
New York City.
I wanted to BE the All-American Kid from New York and I walked in, sat down.
I was hung down, brung down, hung up and all kinds of mean, nasty, ugly
things.
And I walked in, I sat down, they gave me a piece of paper that said: Kid, see
the psychiatrist, Room 604.
I went up there, I said, "Shrink, I wanna kill. I wanna kill! I wanna see
blood and gore and guts and veins in my teeth! Eat dead, burnt bodies! I
mean: Kill, Kill!"
And I started jumpin' up and down, yellin', "KILL! KILL!" and he started
jumpin' up and down with me, and we was both jumpin' up and down yellin',
"KILL, KILL!"
And the sergeant came over, pinned a medal on me, sent me down the hall, said,
"You're our boy!" Didn't feel too good about it.
Proceeded on down the hall, gettin' more injections, inspections, detections,
neglections, and all kinds of stuff that they was doin' to me at the thing
there, and I was there for two hours--three hours--four hours--
I was there for a long time goin' through all kinds of mean, nasty, ugly
things, and I was just havin' a tough time there, and they was inspectin',
injectin' every single part of me, and they was leavin' no part untouched!
Proceeded through, and I finally came to see the very last man. I walked in,
sat down, after a whole big thing there. I walked up, and I said, "What do you
want?" He said, "Kid, we only got one question: Have you ever been arrested?"
And I proceeded to tell him the story of Alice's Restaurant Massacre with full
orchestration and five-part harmony and stuff like that, and other phenomenon.
He stopped me right there and said, "Kid, have you ever been to court?"
And I proceeded to tell him the story of the twenty-seven 8 x 10 colored
glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of
each one--
He stopped me right there and said, "Kid I want you to go over and sit down on
that bench that says 'Group W.' Now, kid!"
And I walked over to the bench there, and there's--Group W is where they put
you if you may not be MORAL enough to join the army after committin' your
special crime.
There was all kinds of mean, nasty and ugly-lookin' people on the bench there
--there was mother rapers--father-stabbers, father-rapers! FATHER-RAPERS
sittin' right there on the bench next to me!
And they was mean and nasty and ugly and horrible and crime fightin' guys were
sittin' there on the bench, and the meaniest, ugliest, nastiest one--the
meanest father-raper of them all--was comin' over to me.
And he was mean and nasty and horrible and all kinds of things, and he sat
down next to me. He said, "Kid, what'd you get?"
I said, "I didn't get nothin'. I had to pay fifty dollars and pick up the
garbage." He said, "What were you arrested FOR, kid?" and I said,
"Litterin'."
<continued tomorrow, due to the CA 10000 character limit>
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sorokin (Jessie Stickgold-Sarah):
If you were to kill me now
Right here I would still
Look you in the eye
And I would burn myself
Into your memory
As long as you were still alive
I would not run
I would not turn
I would not hide
I would live inside of you
I'd make you wear me
Like a scar
And I would burn myself
Into your memory
And run through everything you are
I would not run
I would not turn
I would not hide
Look me in the eye
In The Eye
Suzanne Vega
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starflt (Derrick Kong):
421. Smell smoke often and announce it.
422. Keep saying "That's nice."
423. Wear sheep's clothing.
424. Open old wounds whenever possible.
425. Brag about your new fur in a pet store.
426. Tell jokes at funerals.
427. Throw a loud party in the middle of the week.
428. Convince other people to take risks you wouldn't touch.
429. Eat out with friends and "forget" your wallet.
430. Be nothing if not critical.
from Life's Little Destruction Book
--- End of Central America ---
