Ralph Wants a Refund

Last week, I bought a Social Battery X2000. Your ad said it’d last for eight hours, but mine died in the middle of my wife's office happy hour. And, well, it might have ruined my marriage | Fiction

Hey there,

Hope you had a nice week.

Lately I’ve been talking about Hermit Crab Essays, so I figured I’d share another one I wrote with you. This one takes on the “shell” of a customer complaint email. If I had to categorize it, I’d put it in the low sci-fi genre.

Enjoy :)

To: customer.service@socialbattery.com

From: ralph2188@gmail.com

Subject: Refund Request, Bad Battery

Hello.

Last week, I bought a Social Battery X2000. Your ad said it’d last for eight hours, but mine died in the middle of my wife's office happy hour. And, well, it might have ruined my marriage.

Let me explain.

Before I bought your product, big groups made me very anxious. On the other hand, my wife, Lara, absolutely loved them. So, every time she’d go out with her friends, I’d stay home until she got back. But then, one night, Lara wobbled into bed a little later than normal. Something about it made me realize how much I was missing. So, the next morning, I ordered a Social Battery.

It arrived the night of her office happy hour.

Right before we left, I pressed the device to my temple until it tingled, just like the instructions said. And when we got to the bar, I had no racing heartbeat. No sensitive stomach. Nothing holding me down. Like magic, I was able to talk with Lara’s coworkers, tell some stories, and even crack a joke or two.

And then, boom.

Just like that, the battery died.

My throat dried out. My chest tightened up. Panic started spreading through my body like a forest fire. Meanwhile, Lara was in the middle of a conversation with some meat head in a navy blue suit named Brad. The moment she saw me panicking, she turned to me. She grabbed my arm. She squeezed really hard.

"You should head home,” she whispered.

The funny thing was, I didn’t want to go home. I wanted to stick it out and stay with my wife. But before I could tell her, she had already let go of my arm. She turned her back to me. She kept talking with Brad. She started giggling, biting her lip, touching his thigh. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t find the words. Instead, I put down my beer. I left the bar. I drove home without her.

That was the first time Lara never came to bed at all.

So, yeah.

I want a refund.

—Ralph

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