Witz DOESN'T Pick: Connecticut Credentials

I've been in Connecticut for the last couple of weeks, I grew up here for twenty-two years, and I've driven Subaru station wagons since I was sixteen years old, but it was at exactly 3:57 p.m. this afternoon that I was officially invited to be a member of this state. J. Crew emailed me today and invited me to their "PRIVATE SALE" with the additional subject of "(it's super top-secret)."** Apparently, the only Connecticut credentials I had been lacking were the two polo shirts that I bought last week. Now that my wardrobe is fully stocked with poppable collars, I'm ready for membership.

First of all, really? Is it "super top-secret?" because you sent it to my google mail account and I, for one, don't feel I've earned your trust. I wanna meet the person who says, "Well fuck me, I better see what's inside this email!" What's inside the email is this: "Shhhhhhhh" reads the first line-- "PRIVATE SALE." I'm sorry, but did you just email shush me? Did I sign some sort of non-disclosure agreement when I signed for my credit card? (This actually gives me a great idea-- next time you buy something with your credit card and they ask you to "please sign here," say, "Sorry, I'm going to need a minute to look this over before I sign anything," and then make a series of, "Mm-hm," sounds before you finally announce, "Well, this agreement appears adequate," and sign the receipt.) Am I really supposed to be wooed by the promise of this "private" sale? Who's the douchebag who DOESN'T tell their friends about it??

Friend: Hey Witz, what's this I hear about a sale at J. Crew online?
Witz: ...I don't know what you're talking about...

When I asked E-Funk All-Star (also an invitee because she boats) who the email was marketed towards she replied, "Everyone that has an email address." Touche, but if that's the case, then I have to assume J. Crew thinks we're all huge gossips who can't keep a secret, because THEY'RE A BUSINESS and they want AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE TO BUY THEIR PRODUCT. I would be mildly offended by this, but I quickly realized the coupon was not meant for me:

"Enjoy 20% off purchases of $175 or more."

Oh, poor, misled J. Crew-- I don't have $175 to spend on your clothes! I looked in the Sunday paper for coupons to get a coffee coolatta for less than the regular price of $1.99. "If I'm paying 2 dollars, I better be getting a free donut or something!" That's the kind of enjoyment I'm looking for-- cheap and caloric.

I do hope other companies start this kind of marketing, but with a little bit more intensity. I want to get invited to the "Shut the Fuck Up About It" sale at Sports Authority and the "Don't Invite Your Weird Friend Brian-- That Kid Sucks" sale at Banana Republic.

So, unfortunately, it looks like I won't be joining the handpicked elite of Connecticut any time soon, but that's ok, because I live in San Francisco and am only four burritos away from the five-thousand required on my proof of residency card. And that's good enough for me right now.

The Secret Code Is "SECRET" By the Way...Because They Respect Us That Little,
Witz


**They even used that extraneous hyphen to lure me in. Speaking of hyphens, I learned recently that someone my friend knows is named Ladasha...only it's spelled "La-a" (guess if she's white or not). Aside from the fact that the girl is going to be called "La ah," her entire life, wouldn't it actually be "Lahyphena?" Obviously I'm excited for the possibilities this opens up. "This is my daughter Kate; spelled like it sounds-- with an 8." "Please meet my slutty daughter Tr&." Endless possibilities-- I predict a celebrity utilizes this for their child within the next 10 months.