Ya know, before I moved out from my parents’, all I got were credit card offers in the mail.
Now that I’m on my own, I don’t get those much anymore (though they still come maybe once a month). Instead, I get offers to buy…
Checks. (Already have some, thanks.)
$50,000 worth of life insurance. (And I’m going to buy this based off of direct mail… why?)
Pizza. (No thanks.)
More pizza. (I’ve had pizza about once in the last six months. When are they going to get the idea?)
Dish TV and Internet. (Because I have such a history of buying, or watching, TV.)
Health and car insurance (Seriously? You’re using direct mail to market insurance?)
Wendy’s fast food. (There isn’t even a Wendy’s in town. I don’t remember the last time I ate at a Wendy’s… maybe my mid-teens?)
Subscriptions to The Economist and The New Yorker. (Pretty sure they got my address from The Atlantic. The dog- and cat-themed bookmarks from The New Yorker are pretty funny though.)
Stuff from Bed, Bath and Beyond. (OK, they probably got my address from the Post Office Change of Address filing.)
The fun part, though, was when I got mail addressed to “Current Resident” at my old apartment. You see, the previous occupant was an old woman. Say, 90 years old. She got a lot of mail for retiree cruises and clothing that looks like it came from the 50s.
Based on that… I can only imagine what good ol’ Big Brother thought I was doing with my mail. (You knew about that, right?)