The subscription-service division of any magazine that has reached the circulation of TIME (over 2,000,000) inevitably makes mistakes. And inevitably the subscribers concerned are quick to let us know about it. Such was the case of Subscriber V. W. Greene of St. Paul, Minn., who recently received a letter from Miss Mildred Shipley in TIME'S Chicago subscription office questioning him about his subscription payment. Subscriber Greene's reply:

I HAVE a strange aversion to answering the enclosed letter, since my only past experience with TIME Magazine's administrative section led to unsuspected complications. A story goes with it:

Last year at this time, I was passing through New York City from Raleigh, N.C. to Toronto, Ontario and experienced a three-or four-hour layover between planes. Several months before, Publisher Linen in his weekly letter expressed the wish that subscribers to the magazine call in at your offices in Rockefeller Plaza to while away a spare moment. This was, therefore, an excellent opportunity to take advantage of Mr. Linen's invitation and simultaneously to occupy some time while waiting for the plane.

It so happened that your offices in New York had been swept away by some fervid desire to drain the lifeblood from local citizens and had established a blood-donor center on the main floor. Unwittingly, I entered the building and presented myself at what seemed to be a reception desk. The lady behind the desk was overjoyed to see me, and I thought that the public-relations staff of the magazine had been particularly diligent in its indoctrination. I was asked my name, my habitat, some personal history and my blood type. This again was ascribed by me to be part of TIME'S genuine interest in its subscribers . . .

I was not even shocked, after this reception, to be taken into another room by a very charming young lady, told to remove my coat and to lie down on a cot. Another young lady came to the bed and started to question me further about my medical past. At this point my ego had been inflated to the extreme, and I took this woman into my confidence and explained that they really didn't have to go to all this effort, that I intended to renew my subscription anyway.

The house of cards fell apart when the needle approached. This was no mere hospitality, this was sheer brutality. An explanation was in order and was given--as was my blood, and as was some delicious orange juice and coffee. The whole experience was delightful but highly confusing. Even now it all seems like a vivid dream.

At any rate, Miss Shipley, I would like to help you in your quest for payment of my subscription, but I think that this too is a case of mistaken identity. The check which you refer to was not lost in transit, nor was it misplaced. It was received by you, and you cashed it, franked it, cleared it through the Federal Reserve Bank of Cleveland on Feb. 15, returned it to the St. Anthony Park State Bank of St. Paul, which deducted the proper amount from my account and transmitted it to me canceled and perforated.

I have the canceled check, and I have the magazine arriving regularly.

I am happy and am quite willing to do anything in my power to achieve the same state of existence for you.

Having taken both Subscriber Greene's blood and his check, we are abashed but pleased indeed to hear that he is getting his copy of TIME regularly.

Cordially yours,

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