Our Snuggie story begins a few weeks before last Christmas…

My wife and I were having great fun watching the Snuggies commercial and trying to recall the number of times we were “trapped” inside a blanket which, in case you’re wondering, was roughly zero.

I may not be too handy with power tools and other complicated home improvement items like paintbrushes, but I’ve always managed to figure a way to extricate myself from a blanket to answer the phone or eat popcorn.

That’s not to say the Snuggie is totally useless. It’s the kind of product that just screams out “gag gift.”

Dutifully, I went to the Snuggie website to order one for my wife for Christmas. With over two weeks before the holiday, I figured the Blanket with Sleeves would arrive — under the worst circumstances — sometime before New Year’s Day.

There was no option for express shipping and it wasn’t until after my credit card got processed I saw a footnote saying delivery would be in 6-8 weeks.

I’m no logistics manager, but it seems to me you could deliver a blanket anywhere in the world via iguana in under 21 days. Being the optimist I am, I figured the 6-8 week estimate was just a precaution in case one or two orders got caught up in the Christmas rush.

The Snuggie arrived in late February. It was too late for Valentine’s Day but, in fairness to Snuggie, I had plenty of time to wrap it for Cinco de Mayo.

Flash forward to mid-July…

As I was shuffling through the mail, I noticed one of those perforated, fold-here-tear-off-both-ends and then make an origami swan envelopes from … Snuggie! The envelope was marked with a bold highlight box that said, “Check Enclosed.”

Sure enough, inside was a check for $8.25. And it wasn’t one of those phony Publishers Clearinghouse checks with Void lightly stenciled across the front or Your Name Could Be Here on the Pay To: line.

But…

…there was this minor issue of the small print under the check amount which stated: By cashing or depositing this check you are purchasing a membership in Great Fun.

Hey, it must be that the Great Fun membership is like a dollar and Snuggie is giving me a $7.25 incentive to join some program.

Uh, … not exactly. Upon turning the check over, above the signature line which would normally be for endorsing the check, there was this intriguing paragraph of legalese:

I authorize Great Fun to charge the annual membership fee after my free trial. I agree to a thirty-day trial offer in Great Fun. I understand that the $149.99 annual membership fee will be charged to my credit card on file with Snuggie unless I cancel my membership by calling 1-866-709-xxxx before the end of the trial period. My membership will be automatically renewed and I will also be charged every year thereafter at the then-current fee unless I call to cancel… (emphasis mine)

Great Fun, as it turns out, is a coupon/discount service which also offers you 2% back on your credit card.

In the reeaaally teeny-tiny print, Great Fun informs you that there’s a $5000 yearly limit on purchases which qualify for the discount. A fast calculation shows that 2% of $5000 comes out to $100/year, the upper limit you can get back for your $149.95 membership fee.

All of which is charged to a credit card on file with a company that’s offering other businesses a shot at your information and purchasing power.

That’s not Great Fun. That’s not even mildly entertaining.

In a bad example of shady cross-marketing, it turns out there’s something up Snuggies’ blanket sleeve other than your arm.

-

“Have the Snuggie cross-marketers gone, yet?…”

-

Image: Zuma Press

-

Post from: EveryJoe

Snuggie Is Sneaky