Peddling Wares

Dearest Meh Customer Service,

You must understand, it is difficult for me, a man raised in the lap of luxury, to debase himself by shopping on your site, one that purports to be of the discount variety. Yet, as my inheritance dwindles further and further, I do so regularly, and all I expect in return is that you accept my limited funds and deliver to me the product I desired.

Today, you have failed at this. I purchased the Chef’s Studio 44-Piece Flatware Set, and while I certainly did receive 44 forks, knives, and spoons, I must say, it is quite a perplexing arrangement. The various forks and knives seem to repeat themselves 8 times so that there are 8 dinner forks, 8 salad forks, 8 dinner knives, 8 dinner spoons, and 8 teaspoons.

To reiterate: I was raised in the lap of luxury. I am accustomed to eating meals where a single place setting features 44 pieces of flatware. This set is entirely ill-suited to such an undertaking.

I mean, seriously! No single roe caviar spoon? No truffle tweezers? No champagne sword? What am I to do? Allow my butler to pop bubbly with his grubby hands? (And yes, his hands are grubby. And they shall continue to be for the foreseeable future. When the funds got low enough that I had to decide whether to have champagne with each meal or to live in an abode with plumbing, I chose the former.)

And do not get me started on the lack of oyster shucking knife! I have not had self-shucking oysters since the Marine Life Authority deemed their existence inhumane and subsequently jailed my Uncle Clarence for continuing to breed them, thus dealing a blow to our family’s financial well-being from which we would never recover, Uncle Clarence being the smartest of our stock.

Furthermore, there is, herein, no dessert fork. Moreover, there is no desert fork either. How do you expect anyone to consume the pre-dessert sand course without an implement whose tines are optimized for the stabbing of granules?

But most of all, I am frustrated with the lack of the bandit knife, a utensil usually put into a sheath attached to the underside of the table and used to fend off ne’er-do-wells who attack during meals. As such, I found myself entirely unprepared to deal with the gang of seven who besieged me on Thursday night. Thinking on my feet, I invited them to join me, distributing the flatware amongst them, and this seemed to momentarily assuage their lust for thievery. But soon enough, the oysters came out, and they grew more and more frustrated with each failed attempt to open them. And by the time my dirty-handed butler presented the plates of edible sand, they were irate, and I fear they pillaged my manor with greater gusto than if I had simply let them go to it as soon as they arrived.

At any rate, it has been a trying time here, and in no small part due to this flatware set. But all I ask is for you to issue a refund and give me a promise that you will warn others so they do not make the mistake I did. (You might even post this missive to your site to show them the potential dangers that await.)

Also, if you know anyone at the Marine Life Authority who might be willing to hear out an argument for why Uncle Clarence’s sentence should be lessened, that would be wonderful. We could really use his business sense these days.

Sincerely,
Sir Alben Fjornithan

Dictated but not read; typed with dirty fingers