A desperate man writes.

Yes, the title of this entry is deliberately ambiguous.

After much deliberation [not to mention a significant diminution in hair count], I woke in a cold sweat on Wednesday at 6am. Yes, that 6am.

And what cause such a rude awakening, I hear you thinking about asking?

The missing Dr Pepper dot.

[I am led to believe that there WAS a dot, in the late 19th century, around about the brand’s conception, but was dropped due to the italicisation causing the dot to be misconstrued as an i. Isn’t history fun?]

So, I wrote a letter to Coca-Cola [who own the Schweppes label that makes Dr. Charles T. Pepper’s beverage].

I must admit, it may look a bit facetious. But that’s splitting hairs.

Here it is:

To whom it may concern,

I am a patient and tolerant man, but my ire cannot be spared in a moment of crisis.
Despite being a most keen and loving patron of your Dr. Pepper® beverage, recently, hitherto unknown forces of pedantry have burst from within (in a manner similar to Ridley Scott’s depiction of the gestation and subsequent birth of an Alien in the classic eponymously-titled science-fiction film. But I digress.).
It is with much pleading and bittersweet regret (I’m sure the anguish in my inner monologue is audible to you now) that I come to you in my time – nay, let us be poetic, my hour – of need.

Whither the period?

Allow me to repeat my query, in less antiquated terminology:

On my bottle of Dr. Pepper®, there is no dot. Where has it gone?

I appreciate that this is tricky (and possibly redundant) – but it provokes such syntactical dilemma as: “Where did this Pepper fellow obtain such a doctorate which doesn’t even allow a proper abbreviation?” [Assuming he/she is a doctor, of course. If he/she is, then they’re certainly not a doctor I’d be comfortable with performing open-heart surgery on me with a biro on a crowded 747, I assure you.]
I’m sure, in an idle moment, you have indeed pondered such a question (albeit with a slightly less comical accent, I’d wager).

While you sort out this grievous oversight (as I appreciate the amount of mechanical retooling and staff re-organizations that will be required), may I kindly ask you to send me a grammatically-amended label in the interim? Much appreciated.
This is to prevent me irritating my local soft-drinks emporium by ‘self-correcting’ every bottle I buy, vigilante-style, with my Tip-Ex® pen, as I have been doing up until now.

And, no, I’m not obsessive-compulsive, although my doctor says it would be a definite improvement.

Thank you for your time. I look forward to hearing from you.

Yours sincerely,

[signature went here]

John Gregson.

To anticipate any derogatory remarks – no, I don’t have too much spare time. I woke up early to do this, thus creating a surplus of time to waste at my leisure.

Plus, you can never have too much spare time.


P.S. May I highly recommend Donald Fagen’s new album, Morph The Cat? No? OK, I will anyway. Just bought it this morning, and am currently grooving along to it. Wonderful stuff. Classic Fagen!


1 Comment

Filed under correspondence, humour, irreverence

One response to “A desperate man writes.

  1. SPLENDID! Really enjoyed this.

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