turns out there are many! I present to you all the most divorcee dad story of all time (or of recent memory):
"And so, my war began right then and there. I called the manager over. Told him the replacement dessert - some ultra-sweet monstrosity - was literally inedible (which it was). The manager agreed it was a huge mistake to ditch the key lime pie ("one of our biggest sellers", he said). The various servers agreed, too. They said they'd pass on the feedback to the executives in Vancouver. I believed them. Before we left, I gathered up customer feedback cards and asked the rugby guys – always game for some new crazy adventure – to demand, in writing, the return of the key lime pie. They all committed to continuing to bombard customer service with phone calls, emails, etc. I believed them, too.
But this was only the beginning. That night, I went on Facebook and began recruiting confederates from around North America for a "secret mission". I then devised a calling schedule for each volunteer (so the calls would be spread out evenly), and had them call Cactus Club's Vancouver headquarters (from untraceable Google numbers) at staggered times throughout each day to demand the return of the key lime pie. I also made an email and Facebook messaging schedule for sending feedback to the Cactus online team.
"Project I HAVE NO OTHER REASON TO LIVE RIGHT NOW" was up and running in no time, with me directing a growing number of volunteers like Leopold Stokowski conducting the Philadelphia Orchestra, hammering away at every facet of the Cactus Club customer support team every day. I couldn't lose yet another battle. I'd already lost everything else; I couldn't lose The Great Key Lime Pie Battle of All-Time, too. That key lime pie was one of the last joys of my life. To lose it, as I had everything else, would be one cruelty too many in an already too-cruel couple of years. No – I needed victory, no matter what. And when Cactus customer service kept insisting the decision had been made, and there was no going back, all I heard was an internal voice shouting "ramp it up!".
So next, I started a special Facebook page – something along the lines of a "Bring Back the Cactus Club Key Lime Pie!" group – and made sure to let the Cactus customer service people know that "this thing was really gathering steam", and that "mainstream media people" were starting to look into the story, wondering why Cactus Club would demonstrate "such indifference to the pleas of their loyal customers". Then I started yet another Facebook page. And then another. And another.
Along the way, I began calling Cactus Club headquarters myself. It was what I had tried in 1994 with White Spot, except multiplied by a hundred. I now made seven or eight calls a day from various Google phone numbers, friends's cellphones, landlines, etc., attempting new accents with each call. Standard British English, something vaguely Bulgarian, Pakistani, Italian, Mexican, various North American voices, Cockney, Chinese, Irish, French, every accent I could think of, every vocal characterization I could do, every angle I could come up with or story, I deployed. The message from all the fake characters was: "Bring back the key lime pie so we don't have to go to Romeo's or Brown Social House" (Cactus competitors), etc."
|Key lime pie or none, we hope you'll consider joining Tal along with Mark Steyn and other special guests like Douglas M||2|
|ask the "rugby guys" to pester corporate HQ||1|
|start multiple Facebook pages||0|
|do all those things but have some real estate agent friend lie on your behalf which got the job done||0|
― self-clowning oven (Murgatroid), Sunday, 18 July 2021 17:14 (one week ago)