More and more it seems that you can’t buy anything anymore without getting a note on your receipt or a sticker on your bag asking for feedback on your experience. While I get it – everyone wants to make sure their customer service is above board – when was the last time you heard of anyone actually WINNING the $500 prize or iPad or 147″ HDTV the company promotes as the “Grand Prize” you have the opportunity of winning in exchange for your “participation”?

That said, I decided to have a little fun with the fine folks at Arby’s after seeing one of these stickers on my bag after grabbing a quick sandwich not too long ago. If I recall, it said something along the lines of “Go to our website and give us feedback!” so – despite the unnecessary use of an exclamation point accompanying their request – I figured what the hell. It started relatively boring and benign. It was full of your standard “rate on a scale of 1-5” questions about how long it took to get your order, the friendliness of the drive-thru kid, how clean the outside of the store was…blah, blah blah. Then I got to the last question, which was something along the lines of “We appreciate your business and hope our servers did something awesome. Tell us how awesome your experience was!”

Really, Arby’s? How “awesome” my experience was? No offense, but you might want to relax a little because a.) it’s a roast…beef… sandwich; b.) the delivery of roast beef sandwiches, by and large, isn’t necessarily something that can (or should) be described as “awesome” per se; and c.) really, Arby’s?

In an attempt to make the some lowly marketing Intern’s day a little less dull, I submitted the following “feedback”:

Dear Arby’s and/or Arby’s ad agency Intern/toady/kid working obscene hours for zero dollars but half-a-college-course-credit –

Hi. I’m all for filling out surveys and helping your Sales & Marketing Department do what they do, but let’s not get crazy.

I mean, all I got was a roast beef sammich and a bottle of water that was delivered to me in a normal, timely fashion. Not really sure how much more “awesome” handing me a sandwich and bottle of water through a window could get. Perhaps if the bag with my sandwich contained a handful of $20 bills…that might do it. Of if you could somehow genetically engineer your sandwiches to be able to actually jump into my mouth so I wouldn’t have to balance it on my leg while driving. Or if Hollywood sex-on-a-stick Kate Beckinsale handed me the bag and slowly grazed her fingers across my hand, lingering just long enough to make eye contact with me that blows her mind, resulting in her climbing out the drive-thru window, through my car window and ending up on my lap and demanding we drive off into the sunset as she ripped away our clothes.

So…if that’s the level of “awesome” you’re striving for, that’s where I set the bar.

Peace out, Roast Beef Sandwich Marketing Department Intern!

P.S. – Listen, I’m flexible. Feel free to substitute Marisa Miller or Blake Lively for Kate Beckinsale. Or Marisa Miller AND Blake Lively, for that matter. I’m more partial to blondes anyway.