Oh man, Amy’s Bakery Company. Ohhhhh man. I want to talk to you so freaking bad, Amy’s Bakery Company! Amy, Samy, and me: sharing an undercooked pizza, laughing about how nobody gets it except us, some random screaming accusations, a bottle of brandy. It could be fun! Now although you’re not answering phone calls or e-mails right now, especially not from some kid writing on the Internet, you are googling yourselves, so let’s chat?
Samy. Samy, Samy, Samy. Let’s get on the same page here. You’re a scary dude, no doubt about it. You’ve killed people, right? I’m pretty sure you’ve killed at least some people. But you, me and Gordon Ramsay, we all know what’s up here. We got a crazy babe back there baking who-knows-what and you, my friend, are just making matters worse by sticking your fingers in your ear and singing yourself into a happy place. Look, I get it, bro. You’re caught between angry customers and an angry wife, and you’re not going home with the customers. But without the customers? We have no business. And Samy? We need the business. We want the business. Unless this whole thing is a front for, I dunno, the mob or something, we need the business, right?
So here’s the first thing we’re going to work on Samy. You’re going to start saying to yourself, “I am here for the customer. The customer gives money to me to serve. I will serve the customer.” You’re going to stop attacking the customer. How does that sound? Okay, great. Samy, one more thing? Find the missing “m” in your name. Thank yoooou.
Amy. What’s a’matta’, babe? Huh? Why you all pouty? Why you gotta be barking so hard, huh? Nobody wants’a da pizza pie? The customers, they want’a the fresh ravioli? Amy, I dunno how to say this in a way that you will understand, but honey pie, you cray. You so cray you don’t even know how cray you are. You’re all like “things are one way!” when they’re actually the other way!
Look, at first, I just laughed at how crazy and dumb you are. But then I couldn’t stop reading your Facebook posts and your Yelp posts, or reading everything on you that Google could find, and eventually the abyss was beginning to stare back. See, I’m writing this not because I want to shame you any more than you’ve already thoroughly shamed yourselves, but because I want to help. The reason I want to help is because I find you scary. I find you scary because I’m worried we might be more similar than I initially would have thought. There have been times when I have felt attacked, paranoid, overwhelmed, alone, stubborn, even delusional. Not as delusional as you, probably, but what if that’s just another delusion? Duuuuuuuude.
I feel you. Criticism is a tough monkey. Especially when that criticism is targeted at the thing you do that defines you. I’ve never known anybody who has been awesome at accepting criticism; anyone who thinks otherwise is probably delusional themselves. Most of the people I know at this point are comedians. Comedians are historically terrible at accepting criticism about what they do. The whole thing is that they are right and you are accepting it. Even after a show, try gently suggesting that joking at the expense of a victim of a horrifying act is neither funny nor respectable, then watch heaven and earth get moved to prove how that’s somehow not the case. Point is, you’re not alone with reacting badly to a critique and maybe you should try stand-up comedy! There’s just as much no money in it as what you’re already doing.
See, because the point I want to make to you is, yeah, this business is probably not going to recover. There have been terrorists who have had better PR. And the way I see it, you have got to start thinking about what comes next. Either you will begin to admit that you have a problem and you need to improve yourself, or you will just keep thinking the problem is everyone else. If you can accept the need for change, and you can show the ability to care for others, maybe having a “human kid” wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. If not, please never ever do that. If you want to keep on keeping on, then good news, this is the jackpot choice. Take that crazy in ya and apply it to any of the following professions where your delusional outbursts will be celebrated: comedy, reality show (contestant or host or judge), or politics.
Just whatever you do, stay away from the pizza. You’a make a terrible’a pizza!