To Whom it May Concern:
I was rooting around in a dumpster when I found a good piece of chewed gum in a receipt from your store, American Eagle. I am passionate about scavenging birds of prey, so needless to say I was intrigued by the company name. The next day, I concealed myself in a bush for several hours. When someone passed by, I frightened them by leaping mightily and yelling “booga booga booga.” I then demanded to know what American Eagle is. An oily teenage boy told me it is an apparel store that can be found at my local mall, Walnut Springs.
For the next thirty minutes, I loitered suspiciously around the Walmart parking until I found a sneaker clad man who wasn’t paying attention while putting his groceries in his trunk. While he was distracted with unloading his Go-Gurt and Cheetos, I slithered snake-like into his backseat. When the sedan began moving and reached the main road, I bolted upright, hissed, and commanded him to take me to Walnut Springs Shopping Center. The man complied.
Once there, I slithered out of the sedan—it was green—and made towards the entrance of the great temple of consumption. Heat rose off the asphalt and sweat accumulated the corners of my body. I almost didn’t make it, but finally I reached the gates of Babylon itself and entered with the rest of the sausage people. Once inside, I found a crude map-like representation of the holy shrine, and deduced that American Eagle was even closer than I imagined. It was right behind me.
Good God what horror. You declare yourself worthy to name yourself after the greatest and most noble scavenger of all time, and yet what kind of frivolous merchandise do you peddle? Jeggings? Skinny Jeans? Shirts emblazoned with nothing more than pathetic incarnations of the American Eagle logo? The walls covered with scantily clad adolescents cavorting at various music festivals, suggestive twinkles in their eyes…the whole thing was a disgrace. Only I know what secret these young gods held: it was that they had taken part in the communal pissing-on of everything that is good and noble.
For that reason, I’m applying to work at American Eagle in some sort of ideological reconstructive capacity, with the title of Master Re-ideologist. I will have the creative power to redesign any aspect of American Eagle that I see fit and sack anyone who does not meet my standards. Your company, dear sir or madame, is quite frankly an abomination. You are lucky that I’ve come along to save you from the destruction and/or complete loss of your own souls.
We’ll be in touch.
I posted this in the lunch room where I work (American Eagle).
Good! May they begin reforming their ways before the hammer gets there. That’s me.
Favorite line: I almost didn’t make it, but finally I reached the gates of Babylon itself and entered with the rest of the sausage people.
I love the term sausage to describe humans, something only a fellow Oklahoman would understand. Good to see you here, Pooj.
Jeggings are a person’s way of saying, “I HATE YOU, and I don’t care how much your hear hurts when you see me in these.”
The best part is that you spread this destruction indiscriminately to everyone you see.
No. No. No. No. No.
Pacey, and Dawson, and Joey, and Jenn are all American classic kids. All wore American Eagle (only) for three straight seasons. You are missing something.
These are…the names of bald eagle pets?
A true American Eagle store will serve only puked-up scavengings to it young. Insist on it.
That I shall. And we shall only wear clothes we have made with our bare hands from bare animal skins.
Typo: “its young”
Awesomeness. That is all.
Thizanks. That is all.
Sounds like chewing gum in retail receipts will be the next shabby chic “must have” item soon!
Get it while you can! Supplies are running out!
My order is with the check in the mail!
Sad that jeggings and skinny jeans are two distinct retail categories.
A reality more horrifying than Orwell’s 1984.
Bald Eagles regularly steal food caught by smaller birds, like Ospreys. You could instill that policy in the store. If you are bigger than anyone who enters with a package already in hand, just grab it from them. You’ll be in upper management in no time.
My next step will be hiring you as a co-ideologist.
Changing the system begins in small ways. Tread carefully when you enter the Temple of Overpriced, Useless Clothes. Don’t lose your soul. Bon chance!
Something tells me I need to buy something already…dear God what’s happening to me?
Fight the urge. Be strong.
It’s just like when Steve Jobs went back to Apple.
A firm hand and an even firmer fist.
You are a shoe-in, for sure.
The best part is that they don’t really have a choice.