Honey, Black Friday, War Against the Consumer Part 3
Having the flu recently (pause here to accept uncharitable thoughts about who gets the swine flu), I have been more than usually sensitive to the idea of touching surfaces possibly infected by others, and also, of course, touching surfaces and leaving behind possible infection for others.
Some time ago, after the AIDS virus became widely known, I recognized that public bleeding (such as a bloody nose or a playground scrape) had become a social "no-no" akin to dressing in a raincoat and a pair of pants exclusive of everything from the knees upwards. People who cut themselves would not ask for help, but would slink away to a corner and do their best to hold in their potentially fatal bodily fluid. I'm not a big fan of blood, my own or others', but that seems a shame ... maybe a little harsh and over-reactive.
But last weekend, out shopping with Karen and long recovered from the flu, I was in Costco (yeah, I know, but what can I say?), when my nose started to drip (TMI?) So I whipped out my trusty pocket tissue and quietly blew my nose. I folded the tissue up and tucked it back into my pocket, then went right back to pawing over possible purchases. I did catch something out of the corner of my eye, though, and I looked up in time to see the last of several shopping mothers glaring at me with that expression you reserve for people who toot in the elevator.
I realized that I had made another faux pas (French for "enemy dad"). Apparently under the Homeland Security H1N1 Behavior Guidelines, runny noses, in these times of threat to home and country, are not to be dealt with as I had done, as I had done ever since I was trained not to just wipe my nose on the sleeeve of my shirt (by my wife.)
So, what does one do? I don't know! Go home, or better yet STAY home, is no doubt the preferred course, I guess, but my entire life, my nose has had a mind of its own and simply decides spontaneously and unexpectedly to start flowing like a FLOMAX commercial when and where it pleases. I thought always having a tissue in my pocket was ample defense, BUT NO! And, if I were to stay home were any chance of my nose running in public, I might never leave the house.
What's that you say? Same to you!
Anyway, as I returned to my shopping, I was even more aware of the fact the products literally at hand were likely disease infested death bombs disguised as 244-packs of diapers, and that took a lot of the fun out of the Costco experience for me.
All this came to mind again when later in the week, we were having something for breakfast which called for the application of honey. (Wait for it - I'll bring this home, I promise.)
Now, I'm reasonably careful with my honey, as I know it's a sticky, drippy substance that has to be managed with care. But try as I might, whenever I use honey, it starts appearing elsewhere in my life: on the table, on my elbow, in my hair,on my glasses, on the salt shaker, on the cover of our crosswork puzzle book, etc. It slowly propogates through the house, slowing down everything (although sweetly!) Soon, the only reasonable solution to the honey problem would be a firehose, except that, if you are diligent in wiping away those irritating stickinesses, in a day or two, they quit appearing, lulling you into a false sense of security and an appetite for MORE HONEY!
The parallel to the spreading of germs is obvious, I'm sure. Except for the sweet part.
So, I guess I can understand the Cheney-like sneers I got at the Costco store. I won't take them personally.
Sniff.
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I love Thanksgiving more than any other holiday of the year.
Among other things, it is celebrated mainly by getting together to eat. How fine is that?
More important by far to me, it is the anniversary of the day I met Karen, my wife and best friend. Something to be thankful for, indeed.
But, also, it is one of the last holidays to be relatively unsullied by commercialism. I say relatively, because there's always been a smattering of old-fashioned grandmas shilling frozen pies and so on. But compared to Christmas, nothing!
But a few years ago, someone came up with the notion of "Black Friday," the day after Thanksgiving and supposedly the day that retailers finally get out of the red for the year. Although the name harkens back to Black Thursday, which is probably not the message you want to convey to cheer up the holiday season.
But, this year especially, Black Friday has been spreading like some kind of insidous and secretive life form. Or honey! Yes, that's it, Black Friday is just like honey!
All of a sudden, it's everywhere! The crack-of-dark sales on Black Friday morning have edged earlier and earlier, until now they're beginning actually late in the day on Thursday. HEY! THAT'S THANKSGIVING! LEAVE IT ALONE!
There have always been a few godless communists who keep their shops open on Thanksgiving, but now, I guess with the depression-like economy, there is more and more pressure on shop keepers to indimidate their employees into skipping that second helping, tearing themselves away from Tiny Tim, and coming in to earn their benefits-free pittance on Thanksgiving proper.
This is just part of the trend to spread Christmas out thinner and thinner, starting the frenzied consumer orgy earlier and earlier in order to maximize sales opportunities. It's aggravated, of course this year because Black Friday 2009 is likely to fall somewhere in 2012. If at all.
But does this really work? Doesn't it just spread the same sales thinner and thinner over a longer and longer period of time? What's the point?
Well, the point is, if your competitor is doing it, and if you're not doing it, you will lose sales to him. There may be no more sales overall, but there will be fewer for you, and more for him. The pressure is on you to open your store not only on Sundays and 24/7, but on holidays, too, even one previously simple day that we set aside just for families and gratitude.
Ah, the joys of capitalism.
But don't worry. The free market will fix it.
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And not only that, but with labor costs as high as they are and payrolls stripped to the bone, now every store has adopted Kroger Rule #2, which is this: additional cash register lines will not be opened until customers can be seen putting things back onto the shelves in frustration and disgust.
(Kroger Rule #1, of course, is that flimsy cardboard product promotional displays are always to be placed across from one another in the narrowest aisles. A corollary to this is Rule #1a, which is to hire cheerful, matronly women to clog up the aisles nearest the busiest sections of the store by cooking and giving away Jimmy Dean sausage samples.)
Truly, I believe store managers have been told to wait until people waiting in line to check out are becoming surly or have completely blocked the cross-aisle before calling for more checkers. Not only does this keep down personnel costs, but it also keystones the long-term stategy of training us to prefer checking ourselves out at the robo-aisle. If they could only get us to completely stop buying produce ... it's so hard to put a UPC on that stuff!
posted by Mique @ 5:43 PM
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