Amusement parks have this clever practice of coercing their patrons into posing for spontaneous photographs at the park’s entrance, in hope that the patron will later be persuaded to purchase the photograph for an exorbitant fee. Usually the only point of sale for these photographs is the photo kiosk at the front of the park, but mysteriously, six or seven years ago, one of these clever amusement parks managed to procure my e-mail address. Shortly after my visit, the park began contacting me via e-mail, asking me to reconsider my decision not to purchase my souvenir photograph. In each e-mail they included a copy of the photo, to enhance the enticement.
These e-mails were rather unremarkable at first, since I was still dating the person who was in the photograph with me and since our park visit was still fresh in my memory. Although the park strived to come up with new, creative ways to sell me the photograph, they started off slowly, advertising that I could have the photograph framed in a souvenir amusement park frame, or emblazoned on a T-shirt. No big shock there. Next, their e-mail solicitation included a picture of a calendar, with me and my companion’s faces on the cover. Still not too noteworthy.
But as the years passed, my ex and I broke up, and the e-mails became progressively stranger. Soon, our faces began appearing on tote bags and mouse pads and coasters. Then, coffee mugs, key chains, Christmas cards, and refrigerator magnets. When none of those advertising attempts were successful, we showed up on an oven mitt, a baseball, a melamine plate, and a teddy bear. I mean, who wants their own picture on an oven mitt? (In all fairness, the following month’s solicitation had our picture on an apron. It then became clear why they had to sell the oven mitt, because who’s going to want to buy an apron if they couldn’t get the coordinating oven mitt?)
At about the four-year point, I decided it was appropriate to start forwarding these e-mails to my ex. Although that’s pretty much the only time we communicate, I’m sure he appreciates having the option to purchase our commemorative photo as much as I do.
Most recently, the amusement park sent an e-mail advertising that I could purchase a copy of the photograph with dozens of little hearts superimposed in the background—for Valentine’s Day. Don’t they understand that people break up?!? After all, it’s been SEVEN years.
I’m really beginning to think that the amusement park has taken their advertising campaign too far. Any day now I’m going to click the “unsubscribe” button at the bottom of the message, so that this litany of torture will end.
Although I’ve got to be honest. If they send me an advertisement with a commemorative spatula, I’d really be tempted.