I wrote about the saga with Gasp (*gasp!!*) and their customer service, which is basically a variation on this:
The Manager himself, the grammatical guru Matthew Chidgey, took the time out of his busy day to respond. (In my imagination.)
Dear Rachel, if that is your real name,
Whom do you think you are? Some kind of customer service guru? The fashion police? I am fashion. So if there is going to be fashion policing around here; Or there, I am the person whom is going to do it.
You are obviously not fashion forward enough for us, indeed; our clothes will frighten you. And when they do, and you go running, we will give ourselves and our buyers a pat on the back because modus operandi is being upheld. Modus operandi is another language, just like saying “chocolat” and not pronouncing the “t” because that’s another language too. Incidently; people who eat chocolate are fat so I don’t like them. We don’t let them into our shop, just like we don’t let poor people in either.
Our items might be priced to be inaccessible to the undesirable but sometimes paupers manage to weevil themselves inside. I get Chris, whom is a retail superstar, to spit on them. He is talented so to waste his time is a crime, luckily spitting on poor people is, as you will agree, a good use of his time, and look at all the commas; and semicolons; And rAndom capital Letters, in this one sentence.
Nothing I say might make sense to you but that is obviously your fault and not mine. For example, you would not understand what “cutting edge” even means. Let me guess, you think it’s got something to do with using scissors, don’t you? Ha! I fart in your direction.
So if you have a complaint about me, it is because you are wrong and you wear clothes from Target which I can’t even pronounce without choking on my own vomit.
Thank you for nothing you polyester wearing slut,