|It's a bikini fest.|
Harold, my neighbor, comes with the mail frequently, blustery winds, snow and wind. I’m not gonna do it. Brr.
“Swimsuits!” said Harold.
Swimsuits? There, Kate Upton, a necklace of beads and everything; a Sports Illustrated bikini fest. Postmarked upside down, Mickie Roller, arcane language for SI numbers, letters and address. I worry about the internet. It’s out there, lurking.
I played detective for the internet and SI appeared. Got the account number for the postmark and voila. There it is. My name, address and a Pennsylvania zip code. Well, where’s the cancellation? There, nested among the “revoke” terms, I entered-returned…but wait.
There’s pop-up screen. M2 Media Group (probably subscriptions) for cancellation; call this number. I called. There’s tuneful, melodious (prerecorded), lady stated the first issues are free. Sucker you in, perhaps? Then, the lady presents an address, if you want to cancel. Numbers and letters are bad news, really bad news. I get confused for 17 years. Regroup.
I found the internet M2 Media Group, found the cancellation, found the account number and stopped the product, all by myself. “Submit” and done. Whew.
I’m overwhelmed and flooded. I keep going.Two or three years ago, I had a sea change. I’m calmer now. Reasoning and understanding. My little brain is fried, though.
Oh, by the way, never subscribed to anything for magazines.
Big Brother is watching you.