Doam Lidman's Company Correspondence
To: Goodyear tires
Subject: I am so sorry to have to complain
Dear Goodyear Tires,
I have been shopping for tires through your fine company for years and it pains me to have to make a complaint. I walked into your establishment at 8:30 yesterday morning to get a new set of tires for my car. While I was in there I was subject to listening to the loudest employee conversation I have ever heard. The new guy you just hired (the colored man with the Jamaica hair) was yelling loudly with another customer about some sort of pop singer called M&M. It was very obnoxious and I have not been subjected to such noise since 1952.
Truman had been president for a while now and I was just getting back from my tour of duty in Korea. I had been back for a week when I decided to go into town for a malt, though in our day we called them fizzy-milky drink. It took 2 hours to get into town by bike and not one of those fancy motored bikes oh no! I mean one of those classic American bicycles you never see anymore. You know those ones with red trim and white seats. Classic patriotic colors! all of those stars though back in the day we hadn't added Hawaii and Alaska to the union and Dakota was still in just two parts. I only ever saw the first two parts of The Godfather and I did not care for it at all. A little dramatic if you ask me. Needs some laughs. Like Chaplin's comedies.
Anyway I was heading into town for a fizzy-milky drink when I encountered a stray dog. I never liked dogs ever since what happened when I was just a boy. The year was 1927 Calvin "Shitty Cal" Coolidge was in his last year of office and I was on my way into town to buy some marbles, though back in my day we called them roundy-glassy balls. I needed them to compete in the neighborhood roundy-glassy ball tournament against my boyhood rival Czhord Patankin. At stake was the love of the most beautiful girl in class. Her name was Sandy Garfield and we later found out she was a lesbian. I don't have anything against gay marriage by the way I just wish my son wasn't homosexual.
I was drinking my fizzy-milky drink when along walks some sort of hippy protester on stilts, though back in my day we called them tally-walkies. He was shouting so loudly about the war that I was forced to draw the pistol I kept hidden in my coat. I shot him in the tally-walkie and he fell to the ground in pain. Well, after I fired my weapon I had a ringing in my ears for a week. And that's the loudest sound I have ever had to put up with for the sake of this nations pride. And in the end, I did win that glassy ball tournament and got a kiss on the cheek from Sandy Garfield.
That is why you should never go to the malt shop when protesters are around.
-Mr. Doam Lidman
Doam Lidman can be reached at email@example.com