February 7th, 2008


Yay David Schmader

Dear Mr. Schmader:

Your live presentation of Showgirls at that weird jazz supper club in Seattle last year was teh awesome, and this is pretty damn good too:

Hell, I even enjoyed Straight. You, sir, rule.

Amazing Customer Service News #2

Back in December of 2006, I read that The Grateful Palate had commissioned winemakers to custom blend coffee for them. Being, well, fairly obsessed with wine, coffee, tea, perfume, and basically smelly liquids in general, this sounded like an absolutely fantastic idea. I promptly ordered two year long subscriptions to their monthly winemaker coffee club... and then one of them stopped shipping a month after it started. What?

Anyhow, long story short, it turned out that their temporary holiday help kinda bunged up the order - they managed to charge me the correct dollar amount without actually telling the delivery department that they'd done so, while failing to correctly log the credit card transactions. Oops. It took a couple of days to prove I wasn't kidding about having paid for both subscriptions, and The Grateful Palate were overwhelmingly apologetic when they realized they'd made a mistake. They then graciously (and generously!) offered to extend my subscription by an additional month... awww, shucks. Wasn't that kind!

Well, you wouldn't believe it, but the final month of coffee arrived at my house yesterday... and it weighed three pounds. What?

Inside the box was the expected pound of coffee (Le Cigare Volant blend, by Randall Grahm)... as well as a completely unexpected silver insulated envelope containing ice as well as two pounds of bacon. Mmmm, bacon... free bacon. It seldom happens that a company goes out of its way to please their customers - Thank you, The Grateful Palate, for being awesome.

Oh, and they import some kick ass wines as well. If you're looking for some amazing wine that won't bleed your bank account dry, look for Bitch. It's eight bucks - about the same price as some crappy microbrew - and it's capable of making your evenings profoundly mellower than any beer I know. Even if you think you don't like wine: trust me on this one, it's the tits.