BOOK EXCERPT

Chapter 34 – “YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF” – THE AMERICAN AIRLINES LETTER TRADITION

When my mother has a bad experience with a service or product, she doesn’t just complain—she crafts what we affectionately call an American Airlines Letter, a literary masterpiece of righteous indignation that makes the recipient quake in their shoes.

The American Airlines Letter gets its name from being the first business to receive one of my mother’s written complaints. That letter resulted in her frequent-flier account being awarded many additional miles.

Every American Airlines Letter follows a strict formula, like a sonnet of dissatisfaction.

The first paragraph must contain the phrase “You should be ashamed of yourselves,” delivered with the moral authority of someone who’s clearly never made a mistake in their entire life.

This isn’t a phrase my mother invented on her own; she inherited it from my grandmother, like a family heirloom of indignation.

My grandmother was approximately 5 feet 4 inches of concentrated niceness, the kind of woman who probably apologized to furniture when she bumped into it.

When my mother moved her from Florida to San Diego later in life, my grandmother went into a nearby senior living community, where she continued to be universally beloved until the Great Chef Incident.

One day, my grandmother was served something at dinnertime that failed to meet her standards (and considering senior living community food, that bar wasn’t set particularly high). She requested an audience with the chef.

The chef—a large man, approximately 6 feet 2 inches tall, who probably thought he was responding to a routine complaint—arrived at her table expecting typical, gentle feedback. Instead, my 5’4″ grandmother delivered a critique, then pushed her index finger into the chef’s substantial belly and declared with the moral authority of Moses giving the Ten Commandments: “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Since my grandmother didn’t have a computer to compose a proper American Airlines Letter, she took the low-tech road. She delivered her complaint face-to-face, with physical emphasis that probably left a lasting impression on both the chef and his dinner service standards.

Sunny emails an average of one American Airlines letter per month. It doesn’t take much to prompt her knee-jerk reaction to complain about some perceived injustice.

The second paragraph of the letter outlines the details of the crime Sunny accuses the business of committing.

The closing paragraph describes the remedy Sunny feels entitled to for the indignity or inconvenience she has endured due to the perceived negligence in the crime.

The letter ends with a curt sign-off.

No dancing cat emojis for them!

I recently received this email from my mother, and I quote:

“P.S. I wrote an “American Airlines letter” to the president of our Bank of America. I didn’t tell him he ought to be ashamed of himself, but I did tell him, in so many words, to ‘get his ass in gear’ and return the chairs to the area where we stand waiting for service. I sweetened it by saying, “The associates at this bank are exceptional!”

I’m sure the “sweetener” made the bank president’s day.

The original, authentic, American Airlines Letter