Bedbugs And Leeches

I went to Greece and stayed in a fabulous hotel and took a trip with a marvelous taxi service.  Upon my return the two businesses asked me to write about them on TripAdvisor.  I was happy to do so. Since then TripAdvisor writes me every couple of days telling me how many hits my reviews have had, and urging me to review other venues and institutions.  There is no shaking them.  The device of Unsubscribe is meaningless to them.  Ditto London Direct a hideous outfit from whom I once upon a time ordered two tickets when I was going to be in London and mistook their website for the theater box office.  They deluge me every week or twice a week with what's going on in London as though I gave a flying fuck.  Their Unsubcribe is again a meaningless item on their website.  I could continue with a host of other sites, but instead will turn to this morning's visit to the Ringling Museum in Sarasota.  As members we must sign in at a special desk rather than the general entry desk where today there was not one person buying passes to enter whereas at the members desk was one volunteer helping out and one entirely befuddled member or would be member who needed everything spelled out in time consuming detail.  Maybe she was lonely, and so the virtue of the members desk was important to her.  Clearly the passage of time was not.  Once ticketed, which in this case means wearing a bracelet so that you can be clearly identified wherever you go on the grounds--sort of like San Quentin--, we entered the museum.  At the door at the inner door at the entrance to every gallery there was someone stationed to greet us, and as we left the museum in the quiet of an exit hall there was yet again someone to break the silence and our concentration with cheery words of farewell.  Today I was checking my emails and there were all those from Amazon asking me to review books I have purchased from them.  I know, I know, guilty as charged.  Amazon is the Whore of Babylon and Destroyer of Neighborhood Bookstores and the Enemy of Publishing Houses, all true, Holy Father, and I have sinned, but now I am paying paying paying by getting these emails asking me to evaluate every damn thing I bought like most recently the fifth volume of the Loeb Classical Library Euripides.  I'm supposed to review this for the Amazon readership?  Might as well send it out to those ninnies of the book club world who read Goodreads!  Or is it Goodread?