About Our Relationship

Dear Amex,

I was thrilled to get a “gift offer” from you in the mail the other day. It’s been quite some time since we’ve connected, and I miss those days when we were so close. When I opened your letter, I realized that more time had passed than I realized. Here’s the thing. I don’t use an appointment book or pocket organizer any longer. To be honest, it’s probably been since the Palm Pilot that I stopped using my Franklin Planner. And these new smart phones…they really are smart! They remind me where I should be and at what time! They even give me directions to get there! Forgive me for making assumptions, but I’m quite sure even your “deluxe” appointment book can’t do that.

I see you even went to the trouble of showing how the book would look with my initials monogrammed in gold on the cover. Yeah, gold really hasn’t been in for quite some time either. Remember, I’m a designer. Not to be petty, but these things matter to me.

I don’t want to seem ungrateful, as “it’s the thought that counts,” so they say. And I understand I’m not your only friend, and that you’re pulled in many directions. But I should remind you that our relationship used to be very different. I was proud to be connected with you. You really seemed to get me, especially when it came to business. You were there when I needed you most. You were friendly, respectful, considerate, and dare I say it, relevant. You believed in me, and helped me through those early growth years when cash was tight.

But now things are different. You’ve been overly aggressive on the phone, and the only time you reach out to me is when you need something. I’ve tried to understand where you’re coming from, given the pressures on banks today and the economy the way it’s been. I get it. But you know, I didn’t create that mess. I’ve been pretty damn responsible through the years we’ve known each other. Frankly, you wouldn’t have accepted me (or kept me )as your friend if I hadn’t been. As I tell my other bank friends, you need to be accountable too.

Please don’t take this the wrong way, but relationships have to be mutually beneficial, and ours’ seems to be rather lopsided lately. Your letter says I’m important to you, but your actions show otherwise. You want to charge me $4.94 to cover shipping for my gift? Interesting. I think it’s time to reconsider this relationship, don’t you agree?

And just a friendly word of advice…you called your gift an “extraordinary” offer. While I’m being honest with you, there’s nothing extraordinary about “bonded leather.” What happened to your impeccably good taste?

In closing, I just ask that you consider my letter in the spirit in which it was written. The core of my business is brand development, so I would hope you can appreciate my perspective. Experiences matter most. Remember that. Don’t take for granted those who’ve been loyal to you. I forgot who said it, but “there’s some things money can’t buy. For everything else, there’s…” Well, you know.

P.S. Funny, as I was writing this letter, I got an email from you. It was a new billing statement. Ironic, huh?