1. THE COSTCO AMENDMENT
What do you do with eight gallons of stewed tomatoes? A 4-pack of 120 oz. mustard jars? 50 lbs. of rice?
If you’re like most households, you stick them on a shelf in the back of the pantry and try to ignore the fact that the giddy joy you felt because you saved so much money can’t possibly last long enough to counteract the guilt you’ll feel when you end up throwing half of it out.
This amendment would have legally prohibited club stores from selling bulk items that:
(a) the average consumer can’t possibly consume before the expiration date
(b) the average consumer doesn’t need – i.e. cashew butter, creamed spinach, dried parsley, tapioca pudding, etc.
(c) or that taste so good when sampled in the store nobody can resist their multi-ounce siren call.
2. CRIMINAL PENALTIES FOR FOOD HYPOCRISY
This amendment would have made it illegal for anyone to cop a militant attitude about food – holier-than-thou vegans, organic-only food-nazis, food processing plant owners and/or executives who roll their eyes (and mobilize their lawyers) if anyone questions their quality or commitment to cleanliness, etc.
3. SPECIAL PROVISION FOR SPOKESPEOPLE AND OTHER PUBLIC RELATIONS EXECUTIVES
When it comes to outbreaks of salmonella, E. coli, listeria or other types of foodborne illnesses, it takes a special kind of flak to stand at a podium in front of a bunch of reporters and claim the company’s products are “perfectly safe” and that the media is making the situation out to be a lot worse than it really is, or that it’s not really company’s fault but the work of disgruntled employees and/or unscrupulous food activists, and that in either case, the company is “cooperating fully” with authorities to resolve the situation in a safe and timely fashion.
Since spokespeople can’t be sued for lying, this amendment would have made it mandatory for them all to attend a special private banquet where the only food they got would have been the very food they claimed everyone could “trust and continue to consume without any health and safety concerns.”
4. WHAT YOU SEE IS WHAT YOU GET – OR ELSE
Ever order anything online, or from the back of a magazine because the photos looked so good?
This amendment would have not only banned the use of Photoshop and other means of digital enhancement, but made it illegal for anyone selling direct-to-the-consumer food to hire a photo stylist to, for example, sort through 10,000 bushels of pears to find the one – and only one – in the lot that looked like you’d want to eat it.
It would also have made it illegal to embellish descriptions, meaning that if a wine-of-the-month club promised “world-class” bottles, they had better come from a part of the world that’s actually known for its vineyards and taste really, really good.
5. VEGETABLE JAIL
This amendment would have authorized the FDA to work with state and local law enforcement officials to create “vegetable jail,” so that instead of threatening kids who won’t eat their broccoli, carrots, green beans, etc. with no dessert or having to sit at the table until everything – “And I mean everything!” – is finished, parents could just say “Look… it’s either spinach or 18 months hard time.”
(Not that some kids wouldn’t choose jail over spinach, of course, but at least it would have helped.)
On most days, even when I get up too early, I’m already running late. So that by the time I get showered, get dressed, get the kids ready, get in the car, get the kids to school and get to Starbucks, I have used up what little energy I began the day with and what I really want is my venti extra-shot Americano.
IIn the old days, this was easy because vain, arrogant, intimidating baristas would glare so angrily at anyone who ordered wrong – a “vanilla sugar-free grande triple latte” instead of a “triple grande sugar-free vanilla latte,” for example – the poor soul would have no choice but to take his or her drink and slink away in shame, silently vowing to avoid such humiliation tomorrow by going somewhere else and leaving Starbucks to the caffeine addicts.
Baristaphobia = shorter lines.
But now that McDonald’s has McLattes, Dunkin’ Donuts touts the dunkin’ as much as the donuts, and break rooms everywhere include at least one vending machine that can automatically make any one of a dozen coffee-drinks, Starbucks seems to have realized they have to do more than just serve coffee if they want to make money, they have to serve customers.
Who can blame them? It worked for Burger King back in the ‘70s, so why not?
(Except instead of “Hold the pickle, hold the lettuce, special orders don’t upset us,” it might be:
“Make it no foam
or sugar free
whatever you want
we’ll serve with glee
our growth has slowed
so we can’t be
Obviously, there’s nothing inherently wrong with being nice, but the result of this customer-friendly attitude is that all the people who used to stay away from Starbucks because they were afraid of being yelled at are now standing in line right in front of me, asking what the difference between a “misto” and a “macchiato” is or trying to decide if they’d like to try a breakfast sandwich.
Worse, the baristas are not just being polite to them, they’re being chatty, too. Which means that in addition to wanting to know exactly how they can make the customer’s drink exactly the way they’d like it made, they want to know how their day is, what kind of plans they have, how their family is, etc.
And when I finally get to the front of the line, they want to know that about me, too.
Except at 7:43 in the morning, after having been up all night with a vomiting toddler and a dog who wants me to get up every couple of hours and go to the window to look at the neighbor’s cat, I don’t want to be friendly to anyone – not my kids, not my spouse, not my neighbors and certainly not my barista.
Unfortunately, as much as I want to respond to the question “How’s your day going so far?” by saying “It would be a lot better if I didn’t have to wait in line for 25 minutes to get a cup of coffee,” I don’t.
Because whether it’s crack cocaine or caffeine, addicts like me will do anything to get their fix – even smile and pretend to be friendly.
(And while there are still any number of alternatives to Starbucks, places where the lines are short and somber, and the baristas still act like divas, they’re a few blocks out of the way, and the only thing worse than waiting a few extra minutes in line is waiting a few extra minutes in traffic.)
- Door dings.
- Trash bins that are supposed to be animal-proof but aren’t.
- Dropped calls.
- FEDEX drivers who double-park.
- Stores that post the wrong hours online.
- Meter maids.
- Parents who bring their kids to daycare when they’re sick.
- Drivers who make phone calls instead of turning.
- Construction delays.
- Drivers who don’t wait their turn at 4-way stops.
- Tele-marketers who claim they don’t have to heed the “Do Not Call” registry because you’re a customer of their subsidiaries’ off-shore cousin’s shell company.
- SUVs parked in compact spaces.
- Chatty baristas who don’t seem to care/realize there are now 37 people in line.
- The drive-thru (especially McDonald’s).
- People who don’t pick up after their pets.
- News promos that use the words “deadly,” “outbreak,” and “protect yourself” when all they’re actually talking about is the flu.
- Parents who call before 8:30 am.
- Activities that are canceled or postponed by e-mail a few hours before they’re supposed to start.
- Radio stations that have 25 minutes of commercials every hour.
- Things at the supermarket that are still on the shelves days, weeks or months after their expiration date.
- Cable-company DVRs.
- Apple Airport Extreme Wi-Fi.
- Universal remotes.
- When your kids hide your keys.
- Saran Wrap.
If Eskimos have a thousand words for snow, shouldn’t we have a thousand words for life’s little irritations?
For most of us, a day doesn’t go by that God, the universe, fate, karma, quantum physics or all-of-the-above don’t needle our emotional well-being, usually when we’re running late, just had an argument with our spouse or suddenly realized we forgot to get a babysitter for tomorrow night so we could go to dinner and a movie and finally get a break from all this crap.
It doesn’t help that these cosmic paper cuts never seem to be isolated one- offs, either, but instead come in sets, like celebrity deaths and unsolicited parenting suggestions from opinionated strangers – it’s not just the long line at Starbucks, it’s having them mess up your order twice and then spilling your extra-hot, half-caf hazelnut mocha down the front of your shirt as you pull out of the parking lot.
The impact of these little irritations – and they are little, even if we can’t figure out how not to sweat them – increases exponentially as the day progresses, to the point where we find ourselves cursing some 82-year-old women with a walker because she’s not crossing the street fast enough, or threatening to ground our kids for the rest of their natural lives if they EVER give the dog another peanut butter and jelly sandwich again, or contemplating divorce because our spouse forgot (again) to fill up the car when it got close to empty, leaving us in the position of having to coast down the hill to the Shell.
Psychologists say the only reason any of this stuff annoys us the way it does is because it reminds us that we’re not really in control (no matter how thoroughly we’ve managed to convince ourselves otherwise) and that ultimately mastering the moment isn’t nearly as important as just being in it, regardless of whether that moment is good, bad, satisfying, awful, rewarding, stressful, happy, sad, amusing, aggravating, etc.
But as nice as that sounds (in a zen-like, higher-consciousness kind of way), who has the time to learn how to do that? Or the energy? Or the patience?
If learning to live in the moment can’t be accomplished in one 30-minute session two times a week, in the car on the drive home from work, or during one of those rare moments when every kid in the house is quietly pre-occupied, then it just becomes one more thing we don’t have time to squeeze in but try to do anyway – or would try to do if we didn’t have to wait for the knucklehead in the car ahead of us to get off the phone and go.
Note: It’s easy to complain about life’s little irritations, but it’s also important to point out that we could probably eliminate entire categories of irritation if we really, really wanted to – just moving to a remote cabin in Montana and living off the land, for example, would instantly rid us of driving-, shopping-, neighbor-, school- and work-related annoyances (though it would probably more than make up for that by adding starvation-, bear attack-, hypothermia-, and isolation-related irritations, so maybe that’s not such a good trade-off. Plus, let’s not forget that Unabomber Ted Kaczynski moved to a remote cabin in Montana so he could get away from it all and look what happened to him).
CUSTOMER: Hi, I have a complaint.
CUSTOMER SERVICE DEPARTMENT: I’m sorry to hear that.
CUSTOMER SERVICE DEPARTMENT: No, we’re just trained to say that. Our real goal is to do the very least we can, in the least amount of time, and make sure you don’t throw a fit.
CUSTOMER: But aren’t I a valued customer?
CUSTOMER SERVICE DEPARTMENT: “Yes” in the sense that without our customers we’d go out of business, but “No” in the sense that we don’t care about you personally.
CUSTOMER: But I spend over a thousand dollars a month here!
CUSTOMER SERVICE DEPARTMENT: That might sound like a lot, but our margins are so tight, the profit on that thousand dollars probably won’t even cover what the company has to pay me to talk to you right now.
CUSTOMER: So the company is losing money on this conversation?
CUSTOMER SERVICE DEPARTMENT: Yes.
CUSTOMER SERVICE DEPARTMENT: Not really, because we then have to make cuts in other departments to make up for it.
CUSTOMER: Are you suggesting that the more I complain, the more other departments suffer, which means the more likely there are to be things to complain about?
CUSTOMER SERVICE DEPARTMENT: Yes. I’m saying this is actually all your fault.
CUSTOMER: My fault?!?!?!
CUSTOMER SERVICE DEPARTMENT: Truth hurts, don’t it?
CUSTOMER: But all I did was buy a chicken from you – a chicken that was rotten.
CUSTOMER SERVICE DEPARTMENT: That’s right, you bought it. And now you’re complaining about it. Which means instead of having somebody in the poultry department making sure the chickens aren’t green and spoiled, we have to have somebody standing here belittling your complaints.
CUSTOMER: But that doesn’t make any sense.
CUSTOMER SERVICE DEPARTMENT: We’re the Customer Service Department, we don’t have to make sense.
- Whatever the weather forecast is for next weekend still has a 50% chance of being wrong — 75% if it’s supposed to be a nice.
- All the good candy is already gone.
- If you are hoping to exchange the costume you told your child not to get because you knew he or she wouldn’t ultimately want to wear it, you are probably out of luck because all the good costumes are gone, too.
- Go to your local organic supermarket.
- Fill as much of your shopping list as you can (and hope your kids just won’t notice that organic hot dogs, organic fish sticks, organic “Froot Loops” and organic Kraft Mac ‘n’ Cheese taste nothing like their non-organic counterparts).
- Go to the check-stand and apologize for not bringing your own bags.
- GASP! when you see how much money you just spent.
- Realize that organic groceries cost between 28 to 64 percent more than non-organic groceries.
- Feel conflicted.
- Ultimately decide you’re doing the right thing going organic.
- Repeat this process each week until you’ve spent so much money on groceries you can’t afford to pay your other bills.
- Get kicked out of your house.
- Instead of getting depressed, congratulate yourself because according to recent research, you’ll generate 57.5% fewer greenhouse gases being homeless.
- Multiply this across the entire country.
- Listen carefully for the sound of Al Gore giving his last “An Inconvenient Truth” lecture.