Get Incensed

I want us to be more than just registered shoppers . . .

Just because I buy something and, under the duress of not being able to use your website, register my e-mail with you, doesn’t mean we’re “friends.”

I know I can count on you to remember my birthday, all major holidays and those special times when you need to reduce inventory. And I feel pretty confident that, unlike some of my other friends, you won’t call me when you need help moving or someone to co-sign a loan.

But don’t get all clingy and insist on calling me your friend. If I wanted a shallow relationship based on one small area of shared interest, I’d go to MySpace.

Here’s another clue that we’re not friends - friends don’t give friends fake e-mail addresses and phone numbers.

I know it hurts, but I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t tell you. You’re spam. Your semi-annual clearance sale is sandwiched between an offer to improve my credit and hot grlrrrls just waiting to meet me. Actually, if I improve my credit, I think that would help me get more grlrrrls.

I have no problem being a “preferred customer” or a “registered shopper” or a “club member.” Even if “preferred” membership is available to anyone who isn’t currently incarcerated.

Even in my private (what’s left of it) life, I make a distinction between “friends” and “acquaintances.” Friends are people I’ve slept with; acquaintances are people I’m still trying to sleep with.

Which brings me to the only club I’d like to be a preferred member of . . .

Hugh, buddy, call me . . .

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