I'll come up with something in a minute.

Your loyalty card makes me less loyal.

You guys know Panera has these membership cards now, right? Rewards cards whatever. I resent the idea because I don’t like all those rewards cards. I am simply anti-card. Fuck your cards. Quit telling me about how I could get a free small drink after I buy 900 over-priced sandwiches, lower the price of the damned sandwich. Panera’s is worse than other places because you have to go online and sign up yourself, providing a hell of a lot more information than they ever need. You don’t need my phone number, social security number, mother’s maiden name and shoe size for me to get a bowl of soup once every two weeks. That’s more effort than I’m willing to do for a card I don’t want anyway. So yeah, I resent the idea.

What I resent more is that the people behind the counter have begun to really get testy about my not wanting their card. So as a result, I’ve been going to Panera a lot less recently, but I wanted a loaf of bread and they were on the way home from where I was this morning so I stopped in and got some. When the woman behind to counter asked me if I had the rewards card I told the truth.

I was given a card sometime ago, but I haven’t registered it. I decided not to add that I declined the offer and that I have several suggestions where Panera could stick that little card. Again, I got some attitude, but this time something else happened.

“Well, okay, you’re missing a lot of great freebies.” She said, in a tone meant for someone who has just been caught fervently masturbating in front a preschool class.

“I know,” I said, and then the words just popped out, “I’m this generation’s Hitler aren’t I?”

I didn’t mean to, the words just came unbidden from the recesses of a soul that has simply had enough. I didn’t shout it, didn’t get nasty, just used the same sort of deadpan voice I always use when talking to people I don’t know particularly well. Everything gets relayed in a semi-inflected monotone when I first talk to someone. Sort of like a local newsreader or possibly a narrator on a Mid-70s documentary about World War II. This was my very calm and quite way of going to the window and shouting “Now see here. I’m terribly displeased about all this.”

The reaction was sort of interesting. You could tell that the words took about four seconds to actually process in her head before she looked up at me and realized that I had actually said something that was not on the script. She then actually took two steps back and looked at me as if at any moment I might decide that “It’s Time” and that the “New Order” shall begin here and now.

I’m just tried of being told I need to sign up for a program so I can get a fucking sandwich. I don’t like loyalty cards, I don’t like having to carry them and I don’t like using them. It’s an extra annoying step that has never actually given me a benefit of any kind and despite the claim made by the very name of the object, makes me less loyal to a store that uses them.

That’s the other thing, this isn’t a store trying to force me to give up my private information in exchange for 30 cents off of something they’ve over priced by 90 cents to begin with. This is a restaurant. A restaurant I rarely go to as a result of being hassled to sign up every time I get something there.

September 20, 2010 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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