An Open Letter to Netflix

Dear Netflix,

I first off just want to say you guys are great. I mean, really great. The service is solid, the movie selection top-notch. All in all, everything is just peachy. But you've got something of mine. And I want it back.

I recently recently rented and watched 12 Angry Men -- a study in anger, men, and the number 12 if I ever saw one. Good stuff, especially the frequent close-ups on the old man juror in which he looks mostly terrified and I remember laughing at when I first saw the movie in tenth grade. Anyway, I watched the movie and, in the dark before heading off to bed, slid it into one of those wonderfully convenient sleeves and envelopes of yours and sent it back. But, much to my surprise, when I opened the dvd player the next day, 12 Angry Men was still there. Still angry, all 12 of 'em.

So what did I send back to Netflix if not 12 Angry Men? I opened my dvd cases frantically:

(Okay, that's technically a reenactment. I didn't really lay the open case upon my luxurious bedspread). But what was it, you ask? What treasure from my collection did I accidentally send to you, my fine friends at Netflix? Why, it was....

I believe this set Kory back a dollar at Target. But price doesn't matter. What matters is that is was a Christmas gift. (really). What matters is that Lyn was about to teach me how to pour water into a cup and make a ice cube magically appear. And, because I accidentally sent this back to you, Netflix, instead of 12 Angry Men, I'll never know.

So, Netflix, I'd appreciate it if you'd send Lyn and her amazing magic back to me. I just had a vision of all the Netflix employees magically making ice cubes appears out of nowhere and it made me sad because I'll never know how they did it.