Angry Nerd Mode: Buy One, Get One Free!

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Angry Nerd Mode: Buy One, Get One Free!

 

It’s getting out of hand, it really is.  Eventually, we as a people are going to have to do something about these “buy 5 get 1 free” deals that have taken over the supermarket like some marketing version of Invasion of the Money Snatchers.

It didn’t used to be this way.  I remember, when I was a child (back in Ancient Sumeria) when a store had a sale, they just lowered the prices.  Really.  That was it.  You didn’t have to buy 3 sheep to get a fourth one half off, you just paid less for the sheep!

It was simple, it was convenient.  Of course, money hadn’t been invented yet, so there were still some flaws in the plan, but overall, everyone was happy.

Which of course meant it was time for marketing to screw it all up.  First we invent something cool, like Pokemon Go, or the wheel, and all is good in life and (most importantly) the nerds are happy geeking out with Wheel 2.0 or whatever, and then some slope-headed Neanderthal over in marketing, who couldn’t invent a stick if you gave him a broken branch, decides he needs to “monetize” the wheel, and before you can say “this is why we have ad blockers,” you’ve got rental wheels, short-term wheels, wheel locks, and of course, Ads on Wheels, and if chipping an entire cuneiform text into a stone wheel causes it to crumble at high speeds, occasionally killing the user, that’s just part of the new “Wheel Experience” and the nerds, who are sick of being asked to add more incompatible features to Wheel 2.5, like square corners, go off and invent something new, like pyramids.

Sorry, kind of got off on a rant, there.  We were talking about Buy 7.5, get 3.14 half off with PlendiTM Points, or whatever Byzatine sales tactic they’re trying out this week.

I think it was around 2002 I started seeing it, mostly at the Rite Aid, but that was probably because Rite Aid was the only store I could walk to and I didn’t have a car, which is why it was so helpful that I’d saved all this money on “buy 17, get the 18th one 1/18 off” sales, because I was gonna need that money to pay for fixing the herniated disk I got carrying 35 boxes of Extra Fiber Whole Grain Cheerio-Os home.

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Fortunately, the boxes made a great bed to recover one, because there was no place else to store them in our 2-bedroom apartment.

Listen, if you want to move the inventory, just lower the price, ok?  I may be fatter than most Arctic mammals, but even I don’t need 3 family size bags of Cheez Popcorn, nor do I have a Raiders of the Lost Ark style warehouse where I could keep my 15 boxes of excess Twix candy bars until I finished consuming them!  And even if I did, it would already been filled with bottles of shampoo and extra sticks of deodorant.

I’m not even sure who these sales are aimed at – maybe US Navy Quartermasters?  I’m pretty sure there are no orphanages in my town, so no one really needs 400 spare boxes of instant oatmeal.

 

I mean, the only way anyone could move 4 boxes of ice cream sandwiches would be to open a candy store in their house, and besides being super creepy, I’m pretty sure there are laws about that.

Speaking of children, the only people I can think who are taking advantage of “buy 924 freeze dried anchovies, get 1 free” are either:

  1.  insane rich people with households the size of some equatorial African countries, who have inexplicably decided to fill their homes with a display of American consumer goods, 2002-2020, or
  2. parents with large families

which … hey, thanks, breeders.  As I childless single person, I don’t already feel awkward enough trying to maneuver through the minefield of early spring family holidays like Easter, and now you’ve turned every sales transaction into a reminder of my multiple moral and societal failings.  Thanks!

 

We – and by we I mean the people without children or spouses or someone to share their life with, who go home every night, drink themselves into a stupor and then argue with Lydia from Skyrim about vampires, until the neighbors begin to furtively close their windows whenever they see me get home – managed to make it through Valentine’s Day without suffering any serious alcohol-related liver failure, and we’re just about braced up to deal with Mother’s Day, and now you’ve decided that every single shopping trip had to remind us we’re forever alone.

It used to be I could at least scurry through the aisles like a trapped rat, furtively grasping for the vodka and ho hos while avoiding the eyes of my co-shoppers, but now I”m reminded that the vodka is merely a symptom of my aching loneliness, the ho hos … well, I just like them, I guess.

You know what I say?  The hell with Mother’s Day! What they need is “Bitter Childless Single Person’s Day.” Instead of flowers, we’d give out booze, smokes, and slutty underwear. Then you shave your head, get a tattoo, and listen to punk rock records. Maybe we could get Jim Beam to sponsor it. I say, let’s celebrate the nonbreeders, ’cause there’s enough fcking people on this planet. Let’s all get wasted and listen to the Pogues, then crawl into a bathroom and pass out while simultaneously puking and crying. Or, as I call it, “Thursday”

And on BCSP Day, I should be able to get any single “buy 2 get 1 free” item at the sale price because FUCK THAT.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go inventory my shampoo supply.

Angry Nerd Mode: American Gods

A brief story to illustrate … well, me:
A long time ago, I read American Gods. It was okay. Liked the premise, did not care for the characters or world building. All in all, not my favorite book, nor even my favorite Gaiman book, but I continued to buy his work until we got in a Twitter spat about George RR Martin. Thus far, all was good in life.
Occasionally, people would mention that they really really liked American Gods. That’s fine; they’re entitled to their opinion. I personally thought Anansi Boys was better, and therein lay the seeds of many an interesting conversation. All was well with the world.
Then they made a TV show. And they will NOT FUCKING LEAVE IT ALONE. Every time I pick up a magazine, I have to read about how amazing American Gods is. Every time I get in a nerdy discussion, I have to hear how American Gods is the greatest television ever made. It’s on Yahoo. It’s on my Kindle home screen. I go online, and the headline is AMERICAN GODS CURED CANCER IN LAB RATS. I pick up the newspaper, and the lead is AMERICAN GODS WALKED ACROSS WATER TO HEAL AN INJURED SWAN.  They got advertising planes, and I think they may be sending people to my house.
And I am just – enough already. I am aware of the TV show. There is no way, not excluding frontal lobotomy or actual death, that I could remain unaware of the TV show, or the extreme excellence of the TV show. Unfortunately, since TV rarely improves the source material, I don’t think it will appeal to me. So just leave it alone, ok? Stop explaining to me what I am missing as if I just woke from a coma where the last book I read was the novelization for Hawk: The Slayer. I don’t plan on watching it.
But for the next six months, I will have to have everyone tell me how American Gods is the greatest show EVAR and OMG why aren’t I watching it and this Neil Gaiman guy, see, he’s a sign that fantasy isn’t as hokey as it was in 1995 and why aren’t you watching it and OMG it is just so amazing and on and on and on and on until I have to say, “If you mention American Gods again, I will fucking shank you,” and then they go, “why you gotta be that way Don?”