Junk Mail My Fault

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“Do you have an e-mail address?”
“No,” I looked the saleslady in the eye.

She looked me in the other eye and punched the store computer to print my receipt. 
I don’t care what she thought but I’m not giving out my e-mail address anymore.

 I used to complain about junk mail, not realising that it was all my fault.  I gave away my e-mail freely, like water down the Canim Falls in British Columbia.  My inbox ended up overflowing with:
  • Grocery flyers advertising two for one toilet soap and baked beans.
  • Win a free trip to Belize said a travel agency
  • Seat sale from the last airline I used to fly to Toronto
  • You have been chosen to win a computer or mobile phone.  Can you imagine? Me?  Who has never been given anything for free in her life?
  • White sale ads about pink or black sheets and towels I don’t need.
  • Computer sales. Apps I should buy.
The list goes on.  My carelessness is also responsible for the mess in my inbox.  Some shops or online merchants ask me if I would like to receive their promotional items.  They have a little box that I should tick if I don’t want them.
I’m going to be vigilant from now on.  I’ll read the small print carefully.  Otherwise, I don’t have anybody to blame if I receive junk mail.  It’s like blaming the bank when there is no money in my account, forgetting that I gave my lover, sister, daughter, even the priest my password.

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