Dear Quality Sewing Machine Center,

(which I would link to except you don't have a freaking website, you asshats). I took a "stained glass sweatshirt" class at your store this summer. I made a lovely sweatshirt from my mom and decided to make another for my sister-in-law, who saw my mom's while I was working on it.

I thought I had saved some of the quilting pattern but I can't find it. So I called the store to ask and you said, "Yes, we have that. It comes on a roll and you can pick it up anytime." So I drove to your store and guess what? It wasn't the same pattern. Not even close. So you said you'd order it for me. To your credit, you DID apologize that time.

Tonight, I made a special trip in the PT Cruiser to pick up the border that you had ordered. It's in a roll, but something didn't look right. I said it was the wrong one. "No it isn't," you said, speaking to me as if I were 4. "Ummm, yes, it IS. " I responded. And look -- upon further inspection you realized it was, indeed, wrong, and you again put me down on the clipboard to order it. That was it. No apology. No "I'm sorry you came all the way down here for nothing." No, "Gee, I made a mistake. I apologize."

So it felt REALLY good when I called you to tell you I had found it online. That I had ordered it and paid an extra freakin' 7 bucks in shipping because at least now I know I'll get the right item, and that, while I once thought you were the *best* and had excellent customer service, you were clearly slipping now and I would not be spending another dime in your sorry-ass store EVER AGAIN.

Plus, I have a blog. And I'm telling everyone I know. Seriously.