It’s fairly common that people ponder how discount-based industries can afford to have such low prices. Or maybe no one does this but me, the cynical cheapskate who often intends to sit down once a month to write a letter that starts with something like “Dear Save-A-Lot, where do you get off?”
An economics expert could explain the real reason why this business plan can work, but unless they cite things I learned in my entry economics course like the elasticity of bacon, it’ll probably go over my head.
No, I’ve come to my own conclusion that corporate giants like Walmart and McDonald’s can afford such low prices because those few extra bucks charged by other companies are spent to give you an experience that doesn’t make you want to stab yourself in the jaw.
Exhibit A: Walmart. What scares me is that 49 of my Facebook friends “like” it. If I ever feel like trying to navigate down the narrow “Toilet Paper/Candy” aisle while 67 sweaty, flannel-clad folks are trying to do the same, Walmart is where I tend to go. As my hero Dwight Shrute says, “We need a new plague.”
By the way, it is a fact that I’ve never had a Walmart experience without a bum cart. I have consistently chosen that one cart that has a wheel that acts like the girl from The Exorcist’s head, causing me to subsequently travel through the store at risk of getting a DUI.
Let’s take a moment to be glad that The Exorcist girl wasn’t old enough to drive — “Ma’am, did you realize you were swerving and steering with your pinky toes?”
I’d have to say the very best time to visit America’s SuperHell is when there is a midnight release of a movie or video game whose primary demographic is “everyone that only comes out into the sunlight when there’s a carnival, renaissance fair or Star Trek convention in town.”
I have been known to show up when a Twilight movie is released on DVD because, let’s face it, the glimmering undead is worth the wait. In line, you’ll find a kid probably named Robbie sporting a fake foxtail and several obese mothers with grease stains in illogical places toting children named after Christian virtues.
“Wait here, Chastity sweetie, while Momma takes Prudence to the bathroom to fix her fake fangs.”
Fast-food chains are the Walmarts of the food industry.
McDonald’s is the perfect place to go for an inexpensive meal. It’s also where I like to meditate when I crave the sound of constant beeping and a chain of five-plus people trying to figure out where the button for coffee is because somehow, it’s always every employee’s first day, every day.
Going through the drive-thru is always notable. I order a McChicken and fries and when I open up my bag — surprise, nothing but a fish filet — courtesy of … a disgruntled Catholic employee?
Every time I’ve gone to Wendy’s and ordered a baked potato, I specifically ask for extra butter. And every time, I am given one package of butter, making me wonder what a normal serving is. I’m fully expecting to ask for more and have the guy just look back at me and say, “Take the hint.”
Don’t ever forget the employee that always makes extremely inappropriate comments to his coworkers at a more-than-audible level, asking questions such as, “What would you do if I just, like, came to work naked?”
Nothing says “eat up” like a nude man frying your cheeseburger, folks, and that is the cost of low prices.
Jackie Runion is a junior studying journalism at Ohio University and a columnist for The Post. Do you “like” Walmart? Email Jackie at jr178409@ohiou.edu.
