Remember when you got a message that started with “You’re invited!” or “You have won!” and it didn’t send you scrambling for (a) a catch, or (b) the virus software? No. Neither do I, really.
In the days when I still had a pager (yes, kids, mobile phones are new), I once got a page saying that I’d won something. It was the 90s; it was vaguely possible that this might be true. So I called the number on the message (50p a minute – this had better be good news) and discovered that… it was. It was true. I had won dinner at a fantastic restaurant, up to whatever price it was. (I can’t remember that but I know it was enough for 3 of us to have a fine old time. Must have been about £25 and a bartering pig.)
This was one of those random, customer-service wins. Thank you for being with us. We’re not pushing anything further. You’ve already bought from us; we have nothing else to sell. Just generating a bit of goodwill and, you know, gratitude. That would never happen today.
Every single thing you buy is set up to sell something else; maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life. No wonder we feel swindled. Someone I know got a call from Tiscali yesterday because they “noticed he’d been browsing the packages on their site”. You don’t expect to have to say “Just browsing!” in your own home. Forget pushy, that was downright creepy.
There’s so much of everything, and the focus is in the wrong place. It’s not about what the customer needs, but what they need us to take: I was in Sainsbury’s on Sunday, and I noticed that there were 5 or so different kinds of Christmas pudding. Not in itself a bad thing – I’m vegetarian, and at least one of those options was suet-anddairy free. Hurrah! But when I coninued to the toiletries aisle, and tried to find the cotton wool cleansing pads, there was not one package. I hunted high. I hunted low. Eventually, I asked a sales assistant (or whatever they’re called now that you check-out your own goods). She was lovely, and knowledgeable, but embarrassed to admit that “we no longer carry them.” Hello? Priorities? I can’t take my make-up off with Christmas pudding – despite the fact that, at some stage over the festivities, I will probably try.
Kit Kat, Kit Kat Chunky, Kit Kat Extreme Max Future Shock now with a Free Kit Kat: there’s just not enough room for all the options now. And I’m afraid. Very afraid.
So here’s the thing: my family and I, for the last 5 years or so, have not given each other Christmas presents. As such, it means we give each other the best Christmas present in all the land (cor, lawks-a-lummee): relief. Calm. Lack of stress. You can do it, too. Why buy stuff for people when they are probably sick of stuff and have nowhere to put stuff and will only end up selling the stuff again on eBay on January 6th? Stop with the stuff, already, and do this. Stop.
You don’t have to be Scrooge McDuck; if you really like wasting paper and having more stuff to clear up, buy someone gloves, or socks or an orange – like the old days, when we had pagers and bartering pigs. Better yet, buy them food or wine or candles that they can use and that go away. But if this blog has never been useful before, then let it be useful now: we don’t have money this year. Give the gift of not giving a gift.
God bless us, every one.
Have a spare penny or bartering pig? Please consider giving it to the Alzheimer’s Society, via my marathon page here.
