Dear DeWayne Letter

DeWayne Hodgett
Blue Ribbon Services
Sears Holding Company
3333 Beverly Road
Hoffman Estates, Illinois 60179


Personal and Confidential

Dear DeWayne,

I know you meant well when you invited me to be your facebook friend. You wanted me to experience a different side of DeWayne. The DeWayne with 9,762 friends. The DeWayne who helps out at the soup kitchen. The DeWayne doing the perp walk.
But, DeWayne, I thought I was more to you than a facebook friend.

Our first encounter-nearly 3 months ago-- was brief, one sided and memorable only in retrospect as the beginning of a relationship. You left me a message saying that you were assigned to my case no. 3149639 and would call me in two days. True to your word, you called. I acknowledge I may not have been my best self in our conversation. I may have grumbled that for three months I had been living in a treadmill junkyard thanks to Sears. I may have complained about the limp I developed after I stubbed my toe on the 2nd broken Sole Fitness treadmill. I may have said,"there's not a snowball's chance in hell I will let a Sears treadmill into my house." I do know that I asked you for $2500 so I could get a new treadmill elsewhere. Unflappable, you told me you'd get back to me.

With uncanny sensitivity to my schedule, you called me every other day when I wasn't home, leaving me a message on land-line that you were sorry you missed me and that you would call in two days. I received that same message every other day for a month. In response to each message, I called you back, telling you I was sorry I missed your call and leaving you my cell phone number. You managed to leave me a message on cell every time I was on the subway.

I admit being mystified that your message was never more substantive than, "I'll call you in two days," but on August 16 when you did reach me, your reason became evident.

Only a sociopath would tell you your dog died by leaving you a message. A good person would cushion the blow with a little banter before the bad news. On August 16, you called, asked after my vacation and told me my dog died--metaphorically of course, as I don't have dog. Sears would not give me $2500. What could they do for me?

DeWayne, at that moment, perhaps because your tone was so beseeching, perhaps because the regularity of your calls enabled me to remember whether it was Monday or Wednesday, perhaps because I killed too many brain cells with $3 Trader Joe's Chardonnay, I lost my mind to you. "Okay," I said,"I'll give Sears one more chance. If you can deliver, set up and take out the broken treadmill in one visit, I'll go for it." You said you'd get back to me in two days.

For two more weeks, I received alternate day messages from you on my cell phone. I steeled myself for my dog's death. But, instead, on August 30, you gave me a birthday present. Just as you intuited my schedule, you intuited my birthday. "Pick out any treadmill on the Sears website and it's yours." Upping our intimacy level, we exchanged e-mail addresses.

I'm used to great birthday presents-- Tiffany necklaces, Broadway shows, chopped liver and kasha knish from the Second Avenue Deli-but a treadmill trumps them all. I was certain we had something special going.

I picked out a doozy, the Proform XP 580 Trainer Treadmill, checked its reviews, found out its dimensions and e-mailed you. When you left me a message two days later that you'd call me in two days, I could not and would not believe you had news of a dead canine. I was still on cloud nine, fantasizing running on my new ProForm 580, eliminating the six pounds I had gained since Sears terminated my exercise regimen.

When you began our phone call on September 7, with "How was your weekend?" I knew Fido was in his casket. "The Proform XP 580 is not available." "But DeWayne," I whined, "it's available on the Sears website."

You explained that it was not in a warehouse in my area and graciously invited me to pick out another one...any other one...and it would be mine.

I've picked out three more, none of which are available in my area. You maintain your graciousness in the face of my disappointment, urging me to keep selecting, but the only treadmills remaining cost $75 and are suitable for use by Fred and Wilma Flintstone.

DeWayne, I admit I'm inexperienced in matters of the heart. You led me down the primrose path with your reliability, generosity and empathy. I believed I was more than just one out of 9,762. DeWayne,with me it's all or nothing. If I cannot be your BFF, I will not be your "friend" at all. I nevertheless look forward to our next communication on Tuesday. It will either be "This is DeWayne Hodgett. I'm sorry I missed your call, but I will call you back on Thursday." That will provide a needed reminder that it is Tuesday. Or, we'll speak. You'll ask me about my weekend, so I'll know Fido's being interred and you'll say "Pick out any hamster wheel on the Sears website. Price is no object."

Best,

Carol