But that isn't true. I don't want to say I'm an oblivious blockhead — that isn't true either — though I have moments of staggeringly oblivious blockheadedness. Or, as I sometimes put it, for a smart guy I can be astoundingly stupid.
For instance. When I was in Boston in May, hanging out with my cousin Harry, I went to the supermarket for him — he's ill, and shopping can be difficult. He texted me a list: potatoes, apple sauce, tapioca pudding, and such. I searched for the various items — surprisingly difficult in a store you've never visited before — parsing the various vague requests. What exact kind of cheddar cheese slices? (I actually blew that assignment by picking up non-dairy soy slices cleverly disguised as cheddar cheese. Or maybe not so cleverly disguised; still, it fooled me.)
One item was quite simple: "Rice Krispies cereal." I rolled my cart to the proper aisle. Except I couldn't find the Kellogg's Rice Krispies. I went down the cereal aisle, scanning the boxes. Once. Twice. On the third time I gave up and settled on the generic version, "crisp rice," all lowercase, an unexpected e.e. cummings homage, with a generic pink cartoon dragon gawping at the stuff. Not something I would eat, but then, not everyone is me. Maybe Harry would enjoy this "crisp rice." Still, I'd better check. The best thing to do was text a picture. So I snapped the photograph above and sent it to him. "No Rice Krispies, incredibly," I wrote. "This okay?"
I hit "Send." Then looked at the photo I had just sent.
"Oh wait," I added. "Never mind. There it is." Which is a drawback of this instant communication. Sometimes just waiting — or looking yet again — works better. In trying to figure out how I overlooked it, I think I was distracted by the bedragoned cereal above. Shunning that, I missed the mark below.
I hit "Send." Then looked at the photo I had just sent.
"Oh wait," I added. "Never mind. There it is." Which is a drawback of this instant communication. Sometimes just waiting — or looking yet again — works better. In trying to figure out how I overlooked it, I think I was distracted by the bedragoned cereal above. Shunning that, I missed the mark below.
Or ask an associate for help. :)
ReplyDeleteThat's an old merchandising trick: put the stuff everyone wants below eye level and make them hunt for it, while you put the unknown stuff you're trying to push at eye level.
ReplyDeleteI would think it's the other way round: the more *expensive goes at eye level, the cheaper stuff h%rd
DeleteYa, but *this* cheaper stuff is their house brand, where they get more of the markup $.
DeleteThe generic versions of Rice Krispies, corn flakes, shredded wheat & sugar frosted corn flakes are all exactly the same as the name brands.
ReplyDeleteThe only one that isn't as good are the generic versions of Cheerios. The real one does taste better than the knockoffs. I have no idea why they can't match the taste.
That's true, because it all comes from the same factory.
DeleteJewel's "Toasted Oats" taste the same as Cheerios to me, but then I haven't bought Cheerios in a long time. I actually prefer brown rice with yogurt and fruit for breakfast and only pick an off-the-shelf cereal for an occasional change.
Deletejohn
Eye level shelving comes at a premium. You'd think Kellog's would pay to be above an off brand.
ReplyDeleteWho among us has not done this?
ReplyDeleteI have been walking up and down an aisle for 2 minutes looking for the product that I want to purchase. I turn and say to another consumer or a worker at the grocery store. Can you find in my case the rice checks? I'm standing in front of them. It's happened more than once
ReplyDeleteLife was simpler once. At the corner of Oakton and Waukegan, next to the Pinkertons Drive-In, was Little Ed's Delicatessen. A small general store long gone from most towns by the 1970's. Most items were on high shelves behind the meat counter and Little Ed would collect them as I asked, or from the list my mother gave me. The list OK'd the cigarettes and feminine products to the 10 year old before him. No confusion about brand names, only one brand of most items. Little Ed knew every kid in the neighborhood and on Halloween he let us soap his windows, probably an entry crime for some of us, but a convenience for inducing Ed to wash his windows the following day. It was a sad day when Little Ed closed and a dry cleaner moved in, meaning we had to tote our pop bottles across Oakton for the deposit money, and further still to buy our candy and baseball cards.
ReplyDelete