Dear Generous Grocery Store Owner:
After shopping in your store today, I left compelled to write you a note. I was humbled and awe-inspired by the obvious thought you’ve given to your shoppers. I’m humbled by your generosity. You are the Mother Teresa of fruits and vegetables.
First, I loved how you had all your workers block the aisles to re-stock the shelves at the busiest time of day making it impossible for shoppers like me to navigate the aisles. It was great how I couldn’t get down three whole aisles (don’t worry, my little girl didn’t really need milk. She can grow bones next year.) And it was so much fun when I got stuck in the toilet paper/paper towel aisle when both sides were blocked with huge carts and boxes. I liked how the workers seemed to park those carts there, then go take their 15 minute breaks, which lasted 7 hours. I felt so lucky knowing that if I have to get stuck in a grocery store aisle, I got stuck with all the toilet paper. At least if I wet my pants, I’d have ample supplies to clean it up.
And second, I was so touched by the coupons. How kind of you to give me coupons for the things I didn’t buy. That’s amazing, and so thoughtful. Any other Grocery Store Owner would think to save me money on things I want, and on things I actually bought. But not you, you marketing maverick. You don’t care what I want to buy, you’re going to give me coupons for what you want me to buy. You’re like the controlling husband of produce.
It was so exciting to see which coupons your thoughtful cash register was going to spit out in my direction. I loved the coupon for yogurt covered pretzels, after my purchase of yogurt. Your cash register is thinking that since I like one yogurt thing, I like the whole food group, as if I’m on some sort of all-yogurt cleanse. Amazingly thoughtful , despite me actually only purchasing and wanting one yogurt-related item.
Likewise, I bought organic eggs. Your coupon was for egg substitute, which I’m totally going to try when, and if, I no longer want my heart to beat with regularity. And before I forget, thank you for the coupon for “Depends” Adult undergarments. Undoubtedly, because I bought my 2-year-old diapers, you could telepathically see that the whole family should wear them, too. You sensed my diaper-envy and you wanted to make it financially feasible for me, too, to spend the day in my own urine.
Shopping at your store is like sitting on Santa’s lap, asking for a new bike, and waking up Christmas morning to a perfectly wrapped chimpanzee. It may not have been what I asked for, wanted, or liked, but it was you wanted me to want. And that’s what’s important.
I do understand the sales philosophy involved. You’re hoping to inspire me to spend more by trying a new brand of something I already purchased. But wouldn’t it be a little more efficient to help me buy the things I actually like? How do you know which items I like? Easy, those are the ones I already purchased. Because I don’t buy things I don’t like even if I’ve got a coupon, which by the way, I always lose.
So while I appreciate the gesture, it’s not that helpful. Your coupons for shit I didn’t buy are about as sincere as a girl offering to pay on a first date. Sure she offered, she just didn’t mean it. The same can be said for your coupons. You offered to save me money, except you didn’t. Or, you would have.
You want to save me money? Take 5% off my tab, before I pay it. You want to piss me off, give me coupons for adult diapers because I bought my 2-year-old some. Though those adult diapers would come in handy the next time you get me stuck during inventory hour at the market. On second thought, I’ll take the coupon. And, the adult diapers.