An Email From a Sandwich Shop You Ate at One Time Nine Years Ago

Dear User,

You granted us unmitigated access to your data footprint in perpetuity in August of 2016 so that you could enroll in our exclusive community, Club Sandwich, and get 10% off your first order. For that, we thank you.

Since we value transparency above all else, we’ve streamlined our user agreement from 87 pages of 8-point font text down to 86.5 pages of 8-point font text. The link to this agreement can be found on this page at a new location every four seconds.

While Club Sandwich ceased selling food of any kind in 2021, our corporate values and commitment to ethics has persisted as a multi-national data brokerage conglomerate. The only thing we value more than data (yummy, yummy!) is your privacy. Oh right, and transparency. We forgot we said transparency. That’s why (due to recent regulatory changes in North Macedonia) we’ve decided to come clean about a few things.

First, it’s only fair (according to the government of North Macedonia) that you understand the extent to which we cross-reference your typing speed with the angle you hold your phone in order to plot your mood on a four-dimensional hyper-graph seventeen minutes past the hour, every hour. This sounds a lot worse than it is. We only use this information to know exactly what kind of and amount of garbage you’re most likely to buy at any given moment, which is good for you, trust us. How else would you have realized you wanted to purchase healthy green powder that makes your mouth taste bad, or rejected potatoes that the grocery store outright refuses to sell because they look like penises (no they are not cheaper than non-penis potatoes).

Furthermore, we reserve the right to retroactively change your data after we’ve collected it to make it look like you’ve done things that you haven’t actually done. This includes, but is not limited to: shot putting, putt-putting, plum pitting, and internationally recognized crimes of war.

The sandwich you ate in 2016 also contained a microscopic camera that sends us pictures of your insides while you sleep. We at Club Sandwich know what you’re thinking, and no, the camera never runs out of battery because it is powered by the little pieces of corn you don’t chew enough.

Well, that about sums it all up! Actually, one more thing: we can see your dreams.

Does this level of corporate surveillance make you uncomfortable? Don’t worry, opting out is easy! Take the last train out of town to the end of the tracks and enter the mysterious grey building. Solve the building’s labyrinth without getting caught by our proprietary Minotaur, and you’ll find yourself in a small white room, empty except for a 2003 IBM ThinkPad laptop. Enter your email on the screen and click “unsubscribe.” That’s it—Oh wait, you didn’t uncheck the box that says “Keep me signed up for Club Sandwich rewards!” We’re sorry, there’s nothing we can do.

It’s been such a joy watching you learn and grow over the past decade. We can’t wait to continue monitoring you and your paternal bloodline for the next sixteen generations or five hundred years, whichever comes first.