Originally Posted: 2005-04-20 1:05pm
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An open Letter to CVS, 17th and P
I hereby appoint you, officially, the bane of my existence, winning out over public transportation, an idiot, war-mongering president, and crippling student loans. Daily I find myself inside your walls, every bit of restraint I posess aimed at not lashing out at your listless employees, your many weird customers. Inside, I am alit with fiery wrath, but I fight to maintain my outward composure.
But I am weakening, CVS. With every visit to you I grow closer to letting flow from within a torrent of curses upon your Dupont location. Please help me by considering the following recommendations:
1. There are a reported 24,844 cases of HIV in the District of Columbia. About 2000 babies are born to teenagers each year here. Yet you decide to lock up the case where the condoms are kept? Are you in business with the Devil? Is the Reverend Falwell on your Board? Or is this so that crazy homeless people donít try to pocket a travel-size box of Trojans? I feel I should remind you, you've got Philly blunt papers in the aisle with the shoe polish, available for any young blunt smoker to grab freely. Yet you have decided to lock up the provalactics? Why? Please free the condoms.
2. While we are at it, locking up the liquid bath soap? Also strange, and definitely not sound buisness practice. First, you have plenty of higher-priced items that are not locked up. To wit: the faux salon products you sell at 15 dollars a bottle, or the pricey curling irons at the end of the aisle. Secondly, your entire store is staffed by one cashier, an oddly shy pharmacistís assistant, and a surly guy who is wearing one of the red polos, but doesn't seem to have any official role in the organization apart from taking Parliament breaks. At peak hours, the employee customer ratio has to be about 1 to about 14 . By the time I get one of these people to unlock the cabinet and hand me my soap, I could have walked to Safeway, bought it for the same price, and had time for a beer at Fox and Hound afterwards. And given the lines at Safeway, that is really saying something, CVS, it really is. So while you are at it, considering liberating the Oil of Olay.
3. Your aisles are skinny, Americans are not. Once your inventory has been delivered, could you put it away? Those red crates that are always in the aisle not only make it impossible to get past the people pawing through the jumbo bags of Easter M & Mís youíve got on clearance, itís also impossible to get to the stuff behind the crates on the shelves. You know that stuff, CVS, the merchandise? The stuff I am trying to buy from you at insanely inflated prices? For this to work, I need to have access to that stuff.
4. And speaking of working, If the ATM Machine never does, that means it's broken. How about getting a new one? Considering it cost my drunk, cab-needing ass four dollars just for the priveledge to have access to my own money, this must be an easy way to turn a buck. i'm willing to pay it, because it means not waiting in line for forty minutes behind other drunkys buying cigarettes to take advantage of your convenient cash-back option. Use your own ineptitude to your advantage, man.
5. Also, in that weekly coupon publication of yours, the one that litters our downtown streets, could you please advise your customers that If they are the sort to do their grocery shopping at CVS, perhaps the weekday 5-7 PM slot is not the best in which to do the weekly marketing. This time, the right after work time, when the lines are 12-people deep, is a good moment to buy a Red Bull or a bottle of Windex, not twelve cans of Dinty Moore mini sausages and a basketfull of travelsize toilitries. I'd appreciate it.
6. Finally, next time you speak to your crazy cashier lady in the green hightops, I'd like you to relay a message. If you don't know her, she it the one who complains and sighs loudly when you ask her to unlock the soap case, the one I have seen yell at very old people for being slow, the one who talks on the phone idly when there is a huge line at her register then rolls her eyes while I scramble to get the cash to her as soon as humanely possible, and the one who, suddenly, when I am leaving, tells me to have a "blessed day." Please tell her that If she can't even find a way in her big old Christian heart to treat people with basic respect, she might want to keep her Jesus to herself.
Thanks, and see you tomorrow.