Hi. It’s Tammy. Here in Nevada. Where you haven’t released the Leaf yet. I’m on your waiting list. Probably near the top. You may recall that you said I’d have my car by the end of last year.
I understand that you want your roll-out of the first mass-produced electric vehicle to be a success. I get that you don’t want a bunch of inept electricians botching the installation of charging stations and uneducated consumers misusing the battery system. I see how you want this whole thing to look smooth and convenient and glitch-free.
But here’s the thing — you need to stop sending me cute frickin’ emails with catchy little commercials about how gas is wrecking the planet. ‘Cause guess what? I can’t do a damn thing about it if you don’t get me my car. So as much as I think your ad guys did a bang up job on this latest campaign about “What if everything ran on gas?” with the guy revving up his computer and the lady blowing hair dryer exhaust in her husband’s face, it’s no good to me. And it just kind of pisses me off.
So keep your suburb-walking polar bear and your emails to yourself, and do what I always tell my kids to do. Take some of that energy you’re using to dance and jump around so you can get my attention, and put it toward making sure all your toys in the right places. That will make me much, much happier.