This is weird, but I was driving home from my AM writing session
at my local coffee shop when I saw a car driving erratically on my street. The
connection was quickly made that it was the same one I usually see whenever the
YES! pink poobag drops on my lawn twice a week. Now, remember: I already called
the Idaho Statesman about cancelling
my subscription to their direct delivery junkmail paper. I was told that I
would be unsusbscribed. But I didn’t hold my breath. Good thing.
I watched as the erratic driver slowed in front of my house.
A pink bomb was hurled from the car and the driver moved on to the next “customer”.
“Oh no, you dit-n’t,” I said as I nailed the throttle in hot
pursuit of liberty and justice. I tracked my friendly neighborhood carrier down
posthaste and politely informed her that I had unsubscribed last week from the
product she had just delivered. She told me she’d had a family emergency and
hadn’t updated her manifest yet. I said I was sorry for her loss, but again
reminded her of my address and asked her for a discontinuance of the service. She
thanked me for the reminder and then I drove off.
It was fortuitous that I just happened to be a block or two
behind her when the coupons were delivered. I was able to defend my hearth and
home against the unsolicited pink menace of the Statesman’s YES! scourge. We’ll see if I get the results I want. If
I don’t, I’m open to suggestions from the peanut gallery as to how I ought to
solve it—so long as they’re legal, natch.
