To say that I’m a loyal, dedicated, committed customer to a company or business which treats me right is probably an understatement.

Dunkin Donuts on 2nd was striking out in the service department- but after a series of blog posts and communication with corporate, they turned the place around.

Since Nonna’s first arrived at the Broad Street Market and then made the move to their chic (and green) Reily Street location, I’ve been in there three times a week and have told, literally, everyone I know what a fantastic place it is.

Same with The Hold Steady. Same with my tee shirt guy- Lo Fi Customs. Same, now, with Frightened Rabbit.

When I get excited about something, I blab to everyone I know about it.

And on the flip side, if a business wrongs me in some capacity, I do often give them a shot at redemption and, if they pick up their slack, I continue to patronize the place. But if not (like in the case of the Riverside Diner in Wormleysburg) I never set foot in the place again.

I’ve been wearing Simple Sneakers since I was nineteen years old. I bought my first pair with some money I had made during my first week of selling speakers back home in Jersey. The style and comfort of those sneakers had usurped any Chuck’s or Van’s or Airwalk’s that I had ever owned and I proceeded to purchase many more pairs.

In and out of rotation on my footwear schedule, I varied through five or six pairs over the years. And the ones that I purchased in the nineties held up pretty well. So well, in fact, that I still have (and wear) a pair of the old-school maroon Simple’s that I bought in, probably, ninety eight.

A few years ago (after nearly a decade of wearing the same sneakers) I decided to purchase a new pair. It was time, I figured. So, taking into consideration the veritable hotbed of fashion which is Harrisburg, I quickly realized there are zero retailers in the immediate area who sell my precious Simples. So I ordered from their website. About ten days later, I had my first new pair of Simples in over ten years.

But less than three months later, this pair was virtually un-wearable. The stitching on the toe just pulled apart. The sole was pulling apart from the cloth. They just didn’t hold up.

Disappointed, I threw them in the closet and, more or less, forgot about them.

Skip ahead to last October, I took a trip to Charlottesville and found a clothier who was also a Simple retailer. Eager to take another try at my favorite sneaker company, I bought another pair- but the closest they had to my size was a 10 (I’m a 10.5-11). Hoping they’d break in a loosen up a bit, I took them home. Only to find that they didn’t break in and I was stuck with another pair of un-wearable Simples.

So here I was- ten years after purchasing the old-school maroon Simples and I was still wearing them. Despite having purchased two additional pairs.

So I did what any disappointed consumer would (or should) do. I packed up both pairs, wrote them a detailed letter citing my disappointment in the craftsmanship of the new breed of sneakers (in the nineties, they were made in the USA. The post-millennial Simples are made in Mexico) and requested, in exchange for the two pairs I sent back, one pair of black, Simple, old-school sneakers.

Today, I got two boxes in the mail. And I’m, once again, happier with this company whom I chose to stick with for over ten years- despite some flaws in production somewhere around the turn of the century.

Hopefully, these will hold up.

But either way, I’m Simply a happy guy.