Normally, receiving a “Final Notice” in the mail indicates that a serious problem has occurred somewhere and usually inspires some quick action to prevent something even worse from happening next.

But the one I received last night just made me angry.

First, it was received via email. Second, it came from Barnes & Noble. 

Not some utility company threatening to “pull the plug,” or a credit card company promising they’ll turn my case over to some pompous debt collector.

The bookstore.

It might not have been so bad if the final notice was designed to tell me that some long-forgotten book I’d ordered had come in and they were going to send it back if I didn’t immediately come in and pay for it.

But it wasn’t that, either.

It seems my Barnes & Noble member card has expired. Oh, the horror!

It expired a few months back, actually. I found out, the last time I bought a cup of overpriced coffee at one of the store’s coffee shops that seem to be the place where you go to read an entire book without paying for it, that the card was just a couple of days away from expiring.

I assured the smiling barista that I didn’t want to pay $25 to be able to save 58¢ on a macchiato, and I went on after paying full price for the java.

Receiving a final notice from these people doesn’t make me want to “spring to action.” In fact, it makes me want to shop at Books-A-Million.

I resent having to buy a discount card to save money on books that they could just sell for less to start with. I have no idea how many books I’d have to buy to break even, but since I don’t buy that many any more, it might well be a wash by the time the next renewal was due.

Sure, Books-A-Million makes me buy a card, too. But the last time I checked, theirs is a lot less. And when their card expires, they’re a lot less obnoxious about it.