Capital B-Bitch

Listen Sam’s Club, I don’t need your shit right now. This whole email titled, “You Have Three Days Left to Save!” is pissing me off. I certainly have more than three days left to save and even if I didn’t have just three days left to save, maybe I don’t want to be reminded. Furthermore, perhaps I don’t even want to save with you. Firstly, you’re straight outta toilet paper right now. B: You are being a capital B-Bitch sending me threatening emails about saving money and 3. Who do you even think you are Sam’s Club? Do you think you’re Target? Cause you’re not and I’m not even 100% sure I would let Target talk to me that way. I mean, it depends on the time of year and how big the sale is, but still.

Frankly, Imma head on back to firstly. Firstly, you are straight outta toilet paper and you have been for weeks now and I don’t know how this keeps happening. One minute I’m there buying my allotted “One pack per customer” and there are literally about 15000 packages and then two days later when I get an email about $5 off protein shakes so I make a pick-up order and decide to see if you have toilet paper you got none. Zero. Nada. Am I out of toilet paper? No, I just bought a 48-roll pack two days before. But I can only get a 48-roll pack on average every six weeks from you and that’s bullshit. You’re Sam’s Club are you not? I can see Kroger or Publix or even Target being out of tp, but Sam’s Club? With all that audacity you have, nah G it don’t add up.

So instead of having the shit I need in stock (maybe I planned to give tp away as Christmas gifts?!) you instead send me threatening emails talking ’bout “YOU ONLY HAVE THREE DAYS TO SAVE” and do you know what you want me to save on?! Let’s take a gander, shall we!

Audio projectors! Robot vacuums! 70 inch televisions (I do want that one)! A new mattress! Toothbrushes! Toothbrushes?! And a playhouse (that’s legit though, I don’t need it but it’s cute)! I see you now Sam’s Club, fuck toilet paper and wine, you are threatening me with toothbrushes! It’s like you don’t even know me and that’s a damn shame cause I’ve been shopping with you for like 20 years now, you Capital-B Bitch.

Okay, wow. I didn’t know I had so much anger wrapped up in this teeny, tiny, pale, adorable body that I inhabit, but I do. And it seems all directed at Sam’s Club.

Sorry. I am so sorry. To you all, not to Sam’s Club.

M.

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