I would like to make a return.
You see, I purchased these tickets to a football game, but the thing is one of the teams didn’t show up. And, you know, if only one team is playing, it’s not really a game. Which is why I deserve to get my money back.
You’re probably not going to refund me, and I understand that. Customer service isn’t a strong suit for a state-run university. Or a state-run anything, for that matter. But that’s another rant for another day. We don’t need to go there.
Fact is, I was conned out of my hard-earned cash by you guys and I’d like to be made whole.
Now I could ask for a return on the money I spent on my entire season-ticket package, but I won’t do that. Instead, I just want October 30th, 2010 paid back in its entirety. Here’s a copy of my bill:
$55 – cost of the individual game ticket.
For the most part, I feel I’ve gotten my money’s worth on every other game so far this year. Sure, Nebraska and Arizona State were major letdowns, but at least our team tried to show up. Not the case against Stanford.
I could have spent $55 on anything. A nice jacket, a pair of decent enough jeans, a high-class steak dinner, a new basketball. Instead, I feel like I blew it on nothing at all. Two-and-a-half hours (the fastest football game I’ve ever been a part of, by the way…thank God) in the wind and rain, watching crap unfold before my very eyes.
$30 – cost to park my car on campus.
It shouldn’t cost $30 to leave your car anywhere, but for some reason you’re so freakin’ special, UW. I’ll be honest, I usually don’t waste money on parking, but yesterday I had a bunch of stuff to carry and was tired as all hell from the get-go. I’ve also already been ticketed once this season for parking on campus illegally before noon. So I didn’t want to go there again. I figured the $30 for on-campus parking would be well spent. I was wrong.
$4 – cost of a 20-ounce bottle of Coke inside the stadium.
This particular Coke didn’t do any tricks. It shouldn’t have cost 267% more than a normal 20-ounce bottle of Coke. If I’m dropping that much extra, I fully expect my purchase to sing to me, keep me warm at night, or turn into a weapon of some sort. It did none of these things.
$4 – cost of a Jumbo Hot Dog.
What a bunch of false advertising. Jumbo, my ass. This thing is like half the size of a Costco dog, yet costs $2.50 more. Not only do I want my money back for your “Jumbo” Hot Dog, I would also appreciate it if you changed the name of your weenie product (weak pun intended).
Let’s just call it what it really is. A F***in’ Hot Dog. That way, when I’m forced to reconcile with my need for stadium food after drinking all day but not eating, I can reluctantly go order a F***in’ Hot Dog.
“Yeah, hi. I’ll have a Coke that costs 267% more than standard retail value and doesn’t do tricks. Oh, and also a F***in’ Hot Dog. No, not a Jumbo Hot Dog. A F***in’ Hot Dog. You heard me. Nothing on your entire menu is jumbo in nature. That’s a bald-faced lie. If that’s jumbo, then Isaiah Thomas is a jumbo point guard. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be yelling. I realize you’re just the messenger and you’re trying to earn money for the Boy Scouts of South Everett, or whatever, but come on. We’ve all seen jumbo, and that is clearly not it. Agreed? Okay, whatever liar. Screw your Boy Scout troop, then.”
All told, you owe me $93, Washington. That’s a fair price to pay considering how much money I’ve given you over the years. I dropped thousands upon thousands of dollars just so I could get a piece of paper that validates me as an accredited graduate of higher learning. When you factor in all the other Washington-related stuff I’ve bought over the years — apparel, books, basketball tickets, football tickets, parking fees, food, etc. — I’ve probably wasted at least ninety-percent of my lifetime earnings on your brand. Think about that. That’s a sh*t-ton of money. And all I want is less than a Benjamin from you. I feel like I’m being generous.
Matter of fact, you give me that money back and I’ll donate it to charity. I’ll even give you options: the Ashley K. Aven/Big Deep Breath Foundation or the Robert Vasen Foundation. It’s up to you. If you’re really feeling nice, maybe you could hit up both those organizations for me. That’d be cool. I’m just looking for justice, and there’s no better justice than a) an admission from you that I deserve this money back, and b) a contribution towards a worthy cause.
So let me know what you think. Or don’t. I’m an alum and all, but I haven’t made my first million yet, so how important am I really? I guess we’ll see.
Thank you for your time.