There's something wrong with my robot

Mailbag time. Jen-Smacked-Face wrote:

Patels Superette!! How long has it been since I last heard those words? (Seven years exactly, since you ask.)

Far be it from me to ruin someone's nostaglic reverie, but Patel's Superette is the same in name only, I'm afraid. In them good old days, the staff/owners were your friend, and weird dissaffected young whiteys worked out the back [I bought some CDs off one of them at some point]. Plus they had Lotto. About 3 years ago, they changed hands and that was the end of the golden weather, as they say. These days it's owned and staffed by a strange breed of extremely brusque folk, who speak another language, watch TV a lot and don't always look at you, even when taking your money. O, and no more Lotto. Sorry.

Kellie Wilson, Sales Administrator, Hutchinsons (NZ) Limited, writes:

Thank you for your letter informing us of the problem you had with our Chopped Italian tomatoes with chilli and garlic 400g. We pride ourselves on marketing quality products and were very concerned when we received your comments.

The processing equipment used is very effective and the problem you have experienced is thank fully [sic] very rare. We have however informed our supplier and requested to discuss the incident with Quality Control and the Production Team.

Please find enclosed a $10 grocery voucher for you to use how you wish, we are deeply sorry or [sic] any inconvenience this may have caused you and hope that you will be able to resume your relationship!

Why shucks, thanks Kellie. I'm a bit disappointed though - I was rather hoping that you'd demand the instant resignation of the entire Quality Control and Production Team, and send me a million bucks. I'll guess I'll have to settle for the voucher, then. Maybe next time I'll have to find a black fat-tailed scorpion instead. Thanks for the mandate to use the voucher how I wish though - if I remember I'll send you a photo of me and the lady hoovering drugs with it.

Muffy writes:

Steve, your literary shenanigans never fail to amuse... Heaps of hot lovings, muffy

Muffy, are you my mother? No, just kidding. But I've got a strange, nagging feeling I know you. Did we meet at the first Lord of the Rings wrap-party? Or was that you up amongst the pine trees on school sports day, 1990. You've got my interest, now, you enigma, you. Wanna leave me a clue?