The bakery, what wafting smells! What activated salivary glands! Enticing me toward the brightest colors and highest margins. The fragrant, vibrant flowers shapeshifting fluorescently soaked and prepackaged sodium-glucose delivery systems into something fresh, honest, locally sourced and credible; and the items surgically placed at all manner of strategically targeted eye levels ensuring that just the right folks at just the right stage of psychophysical developments could be coerced into participation in all variety of epidemics and Silent Killers: Can I Mommy? Please, can I?
By now, I’d have completely forgotten whatever staple I’d come in for because it was most likely somewhere near the back and I’d be enmeshed in countless other clearly not meat, eggs, bread or milk type items that offered more convenience, nutrition, comfort, shelf-life, flavor, time savings, $ savings, vitamins, satisfaction, durability, longevity and all for a fraction of the cost. By this point I’d have walked the entire perimeter of the store in search of the six basic food groups; and down multiple high margin aisles, just as my psychology would’ve predicted by the layout itself. I’d probably just have come to take some money out of the bank’s ATM machine, or to get a cup of coffee, but by now, having remembered a niece’s approaching birthday, I’d have swarmed deep into a tangential spree- or was it a nephew?- and been arrested by the giant bins full of pre-inflated rubber balls as I attempted to exit from the school supplies. That’s-how-they-get-you we’d all collectively said before casually moving on to the sports team and then the weather while waiting for the bagger to finish bagging and the register to acknowledge our bonus buys.
And actually, a lot of this is of the totally obvious liberal know-it-all low-hanging-fruit variety, right?
So, rich corporations and people who have put in the time and risked the capital have built something and then built copies of it because “it worked”, and then not only stayed rich but got richer and because of that, to some degree anyway, I’m afforded the luxury of an opinion that it’s all like total bullshit man- like, we’re all mindless drones, fucking, consuming, shitting, wasting, bouncing from one want to another like Roomba vacuum cleaners and that’s their fault? That’s def kind of what it appears that I’m implying; that it’s the fault of the H2 Hummer and some CEO somewhere that where I buy my food is like so predictable and readily exposed to my analysis week in and week out. But the truth is, my life is probably the easiest life anyone in the like recorded history of lives has had, like ever. Sure, the guy (and make no mistake, it’s a man; and a white one) who owns the chain of stores that all fucking look the same, has an “easier” one; but, on a Maslow scale, mine is closer to his than someone who worries equally about mosquitos and water temperatures. So what if people go to school and learn about how and where to position this and that; and what color to make the packaging; and what words to use and fonts to use them in so that my attention is naturally drawn toward the comforts provided through purchasing this product and away from any verbiage that I may find too cumbersome, distasteful, mandatory and necessarily inhibiting of my own personal freedoms- glycohalifaxonate be damned! For my $ it’s 40% more Cherry-Gummy-Thing for 10% off; and Buy 2 Get the 3rd @ Half Price w/the purchase of a coffee shop gift card that is good thru October and not to be combined with any other offer- cash value 1/20th of one cent see store for details restrictions do apply! And all of this my choice; all of those options for my choosing.
So what if someone makes the effort, takes the time, to ensure that my psychology is sufficiently prompted to those specific offerings that are either popular, on sale, or somehow paid extra for by any given brand/manufacturer? I am king in my own consumer kingdom plucking the comforts, conveniences, necessities, staples and occasional magazine from the store rooms of my friendly neighborhood super-store.…all of these items produced at scale and transported great lengths from various and strategically located distribution centers for my potential selection, purchase and subsequent consumption. I say again, potential…all those glorious men (yes, again, men- white men) shouldering the burden of risk that are my flights of fancy in order to guess at and prepare something, many things, options for me to choose from, for me to rub under my arm pits, brush into my mouth, put on my feet and hands and arms and legs, warmth from the cold, shelter from the sun, accessories to drive my friends mad with jealousy, breath freshener, all manner of OTC and prescription medication, water in bottles sized for any occasion- the list is limitless because of these white men and their empathy toward my complete helplessness and purchasing power. So what if they then hire the best dressed, best bred, best educated, best looking people with great hair, impressive teeth and the most well to do of fathers; amassing vast armies of schemers: consultants and designers and strategists and wizards of analytics all charged with out tooth pasting the other toothpaste guys No Matter What It Takes. This is all for me in the end, isn’t it?
If I didn't like it, couldn't I just not?