FULL DISCLOSURE AT HOTELS Every hotel should be required to include a section on its Web site called “The Catch.” It is a place to describe the single most annoying thing about the hotel that is not disclosed anywhere else.

Here’s an example: The Haggler once stayed at a resortlike hotel of one-story suites, in a rural town near Albuquerque. A male peacock roamed the grounds. If you think this sounds like an appealing mix of zoology and hospitality, you have never been near a male peacock, which at random intervals produces a screeching honk — the sort you’d get from taking a chain saw to a Buick. At 30 yards, the noise is startling. But at a few feet away — and the bird was often that close, because it had the run of the place and didn’t seem to sleep — it’s nature’s own air-raid siren.

More recently, the Haggler stayed at a Miami Beach hotel that had no parking lot. The valet service was outsourced, the receptionist explained, and could deliver your vehicle in roughly 15 minutes. That isn’t exactly prompt, but if you build some lead time into your calculations, it’ll do. Except that, one night, it took the valet 45 minutes.

“Traffic,” the valet explained.

Wandering peacocks, pokey valets — guests deserve a heads-up about such irritations before booking. And a heads-up they will get, from “The Catch.”

MUSIC AT DRUGSTORE CHAINS Who is compiling playlists for drugstores? And can somebody find them other jobs? Honestly, the music encountered at Rite Aid, Duane Reade and CVS is so soul-wiltingly awful that the Haggler is wondering if it’s a tactic to hurry customers out the door — as if executives were afraid that we’d loiter if they played something decent. Do they really think we’d just stand there, amid the flashbulb white that for some reason is the default brightness in this retail setting, and stare at the trash bag offerings and Listerine varieties, clogging up the aisles and maybe dancing?

To make it all the more unpleasant, there are those tacky between-song pitches for products.

During a recent visit to a Duane Reade, the Haggler heard “Escape” by Enrique Iglesias, followed by this urgent announcement: “Attention, Duane Reade shoppers: Join the revolution. Try imPress Press-On Manicure by Broadway Nails.”

What should be played instead? It’s a challenge, because quality standards are elusive when it comes to music. But we can stipulate this: Anything played in a drugstore in the last 10 years is off limits.

And listen up, CVS: easy on the Supertramp.

CREDIT CARD MAIL Credit card companies should be barred from using the phrase “Important Account Information” on mailings — unless, of course, the mailing actually contains important account information. Usually, it does not. Usually, it’s a come-on luring consumers into ever-deeper levels of debt.

But not always. Every once in a while, card companies send information that you actually ought to read — terms-of-service changes, for instance. Either banks are hoping that you’ll open all your “Important Account Information” mail and sign up for something or they’re hoping that you ignore it entirely and miss out on genuine news.

Let’s make this simple: If a credit card company is offering any new product — even if it merely “enhances” a card you’re already using — the envelope must be stamped with the words “Irrelevant Account Information.” Or “Feel Free to Toss This.” Or, better yet: “You Know How So Many Americans Are Buried Under Bills and Pay Staggering Sums in Interest and Penalties? Well, We’d Like You to Join Them. See Inside.”

SHUSHING MESSAGES AT CINEMAS We need to rethink the messages at movie theaters beseeching silence during films. Far too often, these use levity to make their point. Hey, it’s the local morning-zoo D.J.’s, hamming it up as they urge you not to be “that guy” — the person prattling on when the lights go down. Or it’s a cartoon. Or it’s a sign in a goofy font, with calliope music.

The problem with using humor in the shush message is that it undermines the gravity of the blabbing issue in movie theaters. Which is a national crisis, frankly. It also makes the message a part of the aural wallpaper of previews and advertisements, giving license to yammer during the shush message itself. Yes, it happens. The Haggler witnessed this phenomenon once and will go to his grave with the horrific memory of two people nattering over a plea for quiet.

So humor and the shush message should never be combined. Instead, the message should be stern and repetitive, and delivered by a respected authority figure. Bill Clinton, perhaps. Imagine him staring directly into the camera and saying: “My fellow Americans. I’m here to ask you to shut up. Seriously.” Lengthy pause, during which Mr. Clinton stares at the camera, his face ever so slightly tinged with disappointment. “Everyone. Please shut up.” More silence. “This is not a joke. You’re at a movie theater. Other people are trying to listen. Would it kill you to stop talking? Probably not. Let’s see.” Pause. “Shut up.”

Take heed, movie theater chains. This approach will increase your attendance and your profits. No need to share those profits with the Haggler, though. The chastened, muted audiences at the theater will be thanks enough.

E-mail: haggler@nytimes.com. Keep it brief and family-friendly, include your hometown and go easy on the caps-lock key. Letters may be edited for clarity and length.

Article source: http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/16/your-money/consumer-annoyances-and-ways-to-stop-them.html?partner=rss&emc=rss