As a "valued customer," which is better than being a "customer nobody cares about," I can't go to the store to buy a toothbrush without being asked to fill out a survey.
The survey is usually at the end of a receipt that is long enough to encircle my car, in which I drive home so I can go online and answer questions about the store, the service and, of course, my new toothbrush.
Sometimes I receive an email from the store, asking: "How did we do?"
Then I am expected to take the survey again.
Stores aren't the only places that want to know how I feel about them. I also am asked to fill out surveys from the bank, the post office, the pharmacy, the supermarket and other places that want my opinion, which in my own home is regarded as worthless.
One of these days, I'll get a survey from the lunatic asylum, which is where I will end up if I keep getting requests to fill out surveys.
It made me wonder: If all these places want to know what I think of them, what do they think of me as a "valued customer"?
So I recently conducted my own surveys.
I started at the post office, where Kenny asked how he could help me. I told him I wanted to mail an envelope containing a book.
"Are the contents potentially hazardous?" he asked.