Dear Blue Apron Team,
I have been a loyal customer of your ingredient-and-recipe meal kit service since its fruition. But I am truthfully appalled by the way in which you have conducted your business these past five years during the absence of myself and half of all life in the universe.
I am of course referring to the Avenger’s recent victory over Thanos which resulted in the resurrection of everyone he disintegrated five years prior with a single “snap” of his reality bending and frankly, grossly overcompensating Infinity Gauntlet. I was one of those people. And upon recently rematerializing with no memory of the past five years, I am now furious. Why? Well, because I just got a glimpse of my package-filled front yard and I realized that you people at Blue Apron have continued to make tri-weekly deliveries to my home for the past five years!
At first, I thought things couldn’t get any worse when I turned on my TV and learnt that I was now living in a world recovering from the aftermath of the Mad Titan's brutal galactic conquest. But then things did in fact get much worse when I saw that my driveway was now a barricade of over 700 boxes of raw ingredients for “Mushroom & Tempura Rice Bowls,” “Paneer Tacos & Avocado-Radish Salsa,” and “Moroccan-Inspired Salmon & Couscous.”
And you charged me for all of it?! That’s over $15,000! Listen, I’m not made of that Tony Stark money. I’m just the guy that collects the headphones at the end of the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian.
I just went through the subscription policy on your website. I guess technically it does state that I’m allowed to cancel my subscription at any time. But how was I to know that in the event a purple space God harnesses the cosmic power of the Infinity Stones and erases my very existence, my Blue Apron subscription, unlike half of the Avengers, would unwaveringly persistent?
In the wake of a cataclysmic event where half the Earth’s population just vanished, honestly, did no one at Blue Apron stop and think “hey, I wonder if any of the people we’re sending this ‘Hoisin-Glazed Wild Alaskan Pollock' to are even alive?”
Did you really just assume that your entire customer base was completely unaffected by “the snap?” That when Thanos snapped his fingers, he told the Infinity Gauntlet, “Erase half of all life in the universe. But don’t touch anyone with a Blue Apron membership m’kay?”
Also, I just checked my phone. I have 8 frantic texts from my mother, 6 National Emergency Alerts, 2 Amber Alerts and 780 notifications that read “Your Blue Apron delivery is on its way!”
Now, I understand I’m not the only one dealing with the immense repercussions of “the snap.” International governments are at the brink of collapse from previously deceased leaders attempting to reclaim leadership. And formerly dead spouses are returning to find that their partners have remarried in their absence. Truly devastating stuff.
But what’s equally devasting is how much couscous I now possess. I have no business needing this much couscous.
And so, I adamantly request that you take back all 780 of the packaged meal kits currently at my front doorstep and refund me for every penny. I am now five years behind on the times and can no longer afford to waste 20 to 30 minutes of my precious day constructing your meals (45 minutes if we’re talking about the Pesto Chicken Focaccia Sandwiches—that one’s a doozy). Going forward, I will leave any and all assembling to the Avengers. UberEats from here on out.
A former pile of dust