Dear Radio Indigo,
This letter is to remind you of a certain conversation we had two weeks ago. You ran a contest one afternoon, a spelling contest, and if we got all three of the spellings right, you promised us three CDs as a prize.
So, ok, I'm unemployed and all, and I can kick ass at spelling, so I called in. And lo, I was the first contestant. Needless to say, I got all three spellings right. Melody asked me to spell things like Chromium, Tungsten and Palladium. For frig's sake!
Anyhow, all went well. Two people even listened in to my stab at fame. And then what happened? Nothing.
So let me get this straight. When you said I won three CDs, you didn't really mean I won three CDs. Because, if I had really won three CDs, I would have those three CDs in my possession, if one were to progress logically. Seeing that this is not the case and I, in fact, do not possess three new free CDs, here is the next logical conclusion: You lied!
Now please explain to me how I can explain to my American husband that Radio Indigo really just slipped up and didn't gyp poor unemployed people who dialed in to their thrillingly inane spelling contest. Tell me how I can assure him that this, in fact, is not the Indian Way. Tell me how I can convince him that this is not , just another case of chronic I don't give a frig what I promised, you mangy git! that plagues so many, many, many professionals in this city, from cable operators to bank officials.
Or maybe I really am the mangy git who didn't get that I was supposed to go stampeding to your office in search of my promised CDs. If that were the case, even then I would have expected some communcation from you. Alas, there has been none. (But then I also didn't put two and two together when you didn't tell me which CDs I had purportedly won, you crafty cretins! )
Now maybe I should call in to your next contest, win it, and then shout out the equivalent of the middle finger salute on your frigging live show.
Still listening, so watch it!