Frito-Lay is Going to Hell
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Arriving home one afternoon at the average time of 3:15, I discovered a newly purchased three-pack of individually boxed servings of Cracker Jack. I'm not a big fan of the stuff, but starving from not eating lunch at school (remember kids, this is not an intelligent thing to do), I decided to go ahead and eat some. No big deal, right? Wrong!
As soon as I opened the package, I could sense a disturbance in the snack. Being the paranoid freak I am, I dumped the contents of the box onto the counter. Gasp! Oh, okay. The prize was in tact. But...oh no!! There were no peanuts! None! What! So! Ever! I was shocked! In previous consumings of Cracker Jack, I had been near tears at the appearance of one lonely peanut, but I had never seen such a horrifying sight as this in all my life!
I flipped the box over to reveal a 1-800 number to call with questions, comments, and concerns. I dashed to the phone and quickly dialed. Surprisingly, the call was answered on the first ring.
"Hello," a monotonously dull voice on the other end said. "Questions. Comments. Concerns. Can I help you?"
"Yes, I am a concerned consumer of Cracker Jack."
"Our hotline closes at 4:30, sir."
"Would you make your comment clear, sir? The hotline closes at 4:30." I glanced at the clock. It was 4:27.
"First of all, I am a ma'am. Secondly, what if I were choking on the god dam Cracker Jack at 4:31? Huh?"
"I would suggest you call 911, ma'am."
"And thirdly, I had a box of it today and it contained not a single peanut."
"I'm sorry, ma'am."
"Sorry doesn't put the peanuts in the box, does it dude?"
"Is that your comment?"
"No, I will tell you when I am finished. The package specifically states 'Caramel Coated Popcorn AND Peanuts'. What you have done is falsely advertised, as I have received a defective product and I would like my money back."
"Or I'll sue."
"Ma'am, we can't reimburse you for a container of Cracker Jack. However, we can-"
"Lemme talk to your manager."
"Um. He's on vacation, ma'am."
"Vacation? Oh, and I suppose you're the assistant manager, eh?"
"Then perhaps I can direct your attention to my concern. If you don't give me a full refund, I will be forced to sue you."
"Ma'am, let's be logical here. I doubt you'll win the trial, first of all."
"Sir, I will ask for your opinion when I need it."
"And secondly...wait. Ma'am, this hotline is now closed. If you have further concerns, I suggest you call back tomorrow."
"You...you...you Cracker Jackass!"
"Goodbye." And then he hung up. I slammed the phone down, but proceeded to talk.
"Wait till I have a word with his manager! Grrrr!"
All of a sudden, the phone rang. I zipped over to receive it. "Hello?"
"Ma'am." It was the Ass. Manager I had previously spoken with.
"Um, I talked to the manager and he says I can give you a refund if you still want it, ma'am."
"How did you get this number?"
"Are you allowed to do that at work? I think I'll sue you for that, as well."
"I'm offering you a refund."
"Refund? Oh, yes. Um, well here's my address. Just send me the coupon or whatever." And I gave the nice man my addy.
"Thank you, ma'am. It should be there within the next day or so. Goodbye." And he hung up once more.
Two days later I received a rather large parcel in the mail, addressed to me, from the Frito-Lay company. I hauled the extremely heavy package into the living room and found some scissors to open it with. I stabbed the box and thought I heard something go "Ow!", but thought it must have been my imagination. I pulled the top open and out jumped a guy, about my height. He was holding a booklet of coupons. He stuck them out at me. "Here you go, ma'am." It was the Ass. Manager! He brought me my coupons! He leapt out of the box and gave me a hug.
That night, the Ass. Manager and I went on a date. It was the greatest thing ever. Now, Mr. Ass. Manager and I are engaged, and it never would have happened if I hadn't found the nutless Cracker Jacks.
We wish Hunter Hohlfeld all the luck in her new life with the Cracker Jack guy