At Starlight Lines, we know that, sometimes, it's the little things that count. For
example, there was a time when we called you "the passenger."
Even -- we admit it -- thought of you as "the passenger."
We used to have meetings. Sure, they were meetings at which we
said to each other "Say -- what can we do to make thinks even
better for the passengers?"
But somehow we felt something, somewhere, was wrong.
Then we got it. Passengers? People like you aren't passengers. Passengers are those schlumps you see sitting around in filthy
clothes, holding out Styrofoam cups. Passengers are those guys
in Purchasing: guys who know they will never, ever make vice-president,
so devote their whole life to negating the go-ahead, mould-breaking
plans of people like you. Passengers know exactly how many space-miles they've clocked up. Passengers drive a pickup
with a feed-sack taped over the nearside window. Passengers have
a brother called Duane and a wife with a beehive hairdo. Passengers
sit on the porch, nights, and go "Wow! Big one, man!" whenever the bug-zapper crackles. Passengers post
regularly to alt.fan newsgroups on the cosmonet. Passengers boast
of knowing someone who's high-up in Taco Bell. Passengers still
use the briefcase their mother gave them when they were in sixth
People like you aren't passengers. People like you despise passengers. And so do we.
So we had a meeting. And we decided to call you customers. We thought of calling you Customers but then we thought, hell, people like you don't need flattering
with upper-case letters. People like you take that sort of thing
for granted. You don't need constantly to be told that you are
successful. That you are winners. You, the customer, know it.
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