We took Playboy for two years, and it's over now. We enjoyed reading it most of the time, but we've never seen such business practices from a magazine in all our lives.
The sample issue used for this review was labeled the 'December 2003' issue. It probably arrived in early October, which means that in accordance with modern magazine subscription practices, the first notices likely showed up in March. In other words, like with most magazines today, no sooner have you bought a year's subscription than it's almost time for you to "renew now, so that you don't miss a single issue!"
Articles: This 'Gala Christmas Issue' headlined pieces titled:
MURDER RAP: Who killed Jam Master Jay? (Who's that? A deceased slam-dunk practitioner, or someone renowned for his ability to assemble successful impromptu gatherings of amateur musicians?)
SEX IN CINEMA: Lights, camera, nudity! (I'm down with that.)
NAUGHTY? NICE? WHO CARES? The ultimate holiday gift guide for guys. (Wow. Shades of Cosmo. No one's ever used that tout before.)
HOOPS, THERE IT IS! Our fearless college basketball preview. (Good. I was getting sick and tired of fearful college basketball previews.)
Charmed and Dangerous: SHANNEN DOHERTY UNWRAPPED. (Who's she? Send her parents to remedial spelling classes with the money she makes giving us evidence of her nominal mammalian status.)
PARTY CRASHER: Howard Dean vs. the Democrats, by George McGovern. (Whatever his advice is, Howie, it'll be lethal: "My method for going from Presidential candidate to political extinction in one short year, by George McG.")
50TH ANNIVERSARY PLAYMATE HUNT: Can you pick the winner? (Absolutely. It'll be the one with the airbrushed-out implant scars, too much makeup, Mauthausen thighs and pubic bush barbered to the size and shape of an Army shoulder patch. It evidently won't be an actual, authentic female. I count coup!)
ROCK 'N' POLL ALL NIGHT: Make your voice heard in Playboy's Music Poll. (I've always wanted to share my music tastes with this magazine's editors. Now's my big chance!)
That's a representative sampling of typical topics in most issues. As with most such mags, Playboy likes to split up the article; the rest is always continued on page 166 or something. Why? Well, let's ask ourselves. If the articles were contiguous, there would be no reason for you to view the hindmost of the...
Ads: less than you would think. Less than I thought. Curious, I tore out every page of the mag that contained only advertising, be it new flavours of chew or pimpage for pay-per-porn. I wound up with less than 1/16" of paper, out of a 1/4" thick magazine. Fair's fair: while the ads are heavily flashy, the magazine has a lot of content relative to advertising. The advertising is, naturally, all glitz and no substance. Distilled message: This Will Make You Cool.
Minor features: these outnumber the pictorials and cover features. Letter column, news, fashion spread, factoids, sexual cartoons, interviewlets, erotica, comedy, product reviews--everything that makes Playboy a good toilet-reading magazine. Enough of this is pretty good that many people of both genders will find things of interest.
Pictorials: by and large, the dullest collection of airbrushed caricatures of nude femininity to be found. No tiny breasts; anything that was a B-cup or smaller had that silicon stuff pumped into it, leaving the bubble effect that screams 'Boob Job!' to the world. Any breast that actually hangs down like an authentic knocker only does so because it's huge. Perfect hair. Makeup jobs so extensive that we have no real idea what she looks like. Subtracting ten or twenty pounds for the camera, evidence of painful skinniness. I wonder what the puker quotient is?
Perhaps unpleasantest of all, never an authentic pubic bush in the bunch: all either shaved or trimmed. No unruly thatches here to invite a burst of good honest, sweaty, imperfect lust: they're usually in the shape of a teeny bikini bottom, or a spearpoint, or something else. Never too long, either--I am assuming they use a crew-cut clipper like my barber employs on my scalp. Other than the occasional curiosity about a naked celebrity, I barely even look at the pictures. The cliché is for real: the value of the magazine is in the articles.
And if you buy it at the newsstand, you'll probably enjoy it. If you subscribe, however, you may be subjected to a miserable experience with Playboy's business practices. We were, and we'd hate for you to miss out on it.
Subscribing: right now, they want a very reasonable $26.97 per year. It comes discreetly wrapped in such a way that only someone who has ever seen a wrapped copy will know which specific skin mag you're taking.
That's the only reasonable part.
When we originally sent in a subscription card, we got a bill and paid it. Everyone went home happy. Partway through that year, we learned that we had been enrolled in something we never signed up for: the 'automatic resubscription program.' What this means is simple: unless you write in to cancel--assuming that you can--Playboy thinks you're obligated to pony up for another year. There is no provision for your subscription to expire through inaction.
We liked the magazine well enough, so we called Playboy and told them: "yeah, we'll take another year, but we did not consent to any 'automatic resubscription program,' nor will we, so take us off it." The representative agreed. We reckoned that was that.
Of course, partway through our second year, the notices for next year began to come--but they weren't notices. They were invoices: 'we have resubscribed you, here is your bill.' Obviously no one paid the slightest bit of attention to our earlier request. We got our backs up, and decided: "Screw you people. We don't have to pay you anything, nor do we have to notify you: we already did. We're going to start taking Penthouse, or some other competing magazine that has roughly similar content and perhaps more interesting pictures."
The invoices kept coming, the tone becoming increasingly threatening. Finally it became bald-faced, and I think you should see this for yourself, the text reproduced verbatim with original underline emphasis shown in italics:
=======
COLLECTION NOTICE!
Dear D M Kelley,
This is the last chance we can give you to clear up the long-overdue bill for your PLAYBOY subscription before we turn over your account to a collection agency.
Although we sent you many invoices over the last six months, we have not received a single payment from you.
To avoid further action, we must receive full payment of $26.97 within the next seven days.
We will reinstate your subscription and you will receive all copies of PLAYBOY that are due you.
Unless we hear from you immediately, you will hear from the collection agency.
So don't delay. Mail your check today.
Sincerely,
Charles Martin, Collection Manager
=======
At this writing, that's where the matter stands. There has not been time yet for Chaz to decide whether our certified/return receipt message to him basically telling him to go pound sand will have any effect, but if these people want a fight, they've got one. I begin to wonder what tort law says about companies who unjustly harm a customer's credit, in light of the threats that have been made.
Why didn't we just write 'cancel' on one of the invoices? Because, goddamnit, Chuckles, we don't have to. It is not our job to straighten these people out. We already made that effort. If they are too incompetent--or more likely, if they really just didn't care--it is no longer our problem. I refuse to expend any energy playing along with this sort of company. Hours for defence, but not one New York minute for tribute. Moreover, we were never asked if we wanted to resubscribe. How can you say 'no' to a question that is never asked?
Get phucked, Chuck.
Okay. Enough with the italics/underlines.
Now just think: all this energy spent simply to deal with a situation that never comes up with a normal magazine. Normally you get resubscription offers, and you either sign on again or not. If you do, you get a bill, you pay it, you get the magazine for however long you request. If you ignore them, the mags stop coming, and that's the end of it. If they send you extra issues in hopes you'll reconsider, that's their business risk; they are under no obligation to do so, but it must do some good or so many magazines wouldn't do it.
Only at Playboy is it like this, escalating a simple business transaction worth the cost of decent fajitas for two into a urinating contest.
If you're browsing the newsstand, and you like this sort of reading, maybe Playboy's worth picking up. But unless you are sure you want a lifetime subscription--or are so lily-livered you like being pushed around by an arrogant company that disregards your wishes, then starts making threats--I wouldn't ever, ever, ever send Playboy a subscription card.
Thanks to prfstars for the great title suggestion.
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