“IT STRIKES” Again: Far too many consumer choices to ponder and not a plastic pail in sight

[The following column was first published March 6, 2003. Since that time my bladder has become even more time sensitive and I now let my wife take care of filling up the car with gas. It’s an ‘age’ thingy. gah]

Far too many consumer choices to ponder and not a plastic pail in sight

Occasionally common consumer-oriented desires collide.

Usually producers want to provide a variety of options to consumers and consumers want an unending selection of goods. But the more choices available, the more time is needed to peruse them. This can lead to producer/consumer conflicts and more.

My watch read 8:35 a.m. Appointment was at 9. Time enough for a stop at The Roaster.

I checked my pockets. $4.15. I could afford a medium coffee, toasted cheese bagel with butter and marmalade and something for the tip jar.

While stirring two packets of raw sugar into my coffee I checked out their wide selection of milks and creams. I spotted 1%, 6%, 8%, 10%, 18%, fresh ‘half and half’ and Beatrice French Vanilla Coffee Duet made from real dairy cream.

For a lark I asked Barb, the cashier, “Any 2 per cent?”

With coffee and sticky breakfast on board and minutes to spare I drove to Westgate Honda for my car’s three-month physical. I had a longer wait than expected so I read all of the magazines on hand, drank free orange juice and more coffee.

When I left I noticed I had ‘to go’ in a somewhat urgent biological sense but thought I could make it home to the comfort and privacy of my own bathroom. As I approached Oxford and Wonderland, however, I noticed a reasonable price for gas at the Petro-Can station on the corner. I pulled in for a fast fill-up.

After finishing at the pump I joined a long queue of fellow customers inside the station. I also glanced about for a washroom, but seeing none, decided to hold my place.

Time marched in one spot for several minutes, then someone stepped inside to ask, :Do you sell rear wiper blades.?”

“No, we don’t carry those anymore,” the young clerk replied.

I surveyed the room to evaluate the selection of goods offered to busy motorists. No wipers? Wasn’t it a gas station?

Chocolate bars, cigarettes, bundles of wood, nifty ‘three-paks’ of bungee watches (on sale for $12.95 or a bazillion Petro points), soft drinks, and every snack food known to mankind were on display. But no wipers.

The line shrank slowly. My desperation grew. I ground my teeth until I reached the counter, my money ready.


["Painful photos by GH"]

“Hi, Im pump seven. Here’s 20 bucks,” I said, dancing left and right.

Before the clerk took my money he wanted to ask a variety of important skill-testing questions.

“Do you collect Petro points?”

“No,” I said, moving the $20 closer to his eyes.

“Would you like to sign up for a Petro card while you’re here today?”

“No,” I said, waving the bill like a red flag. I readied my answer for any subsequent queries about Air Miles, cash back or super-sizing my fries.

“Can I help you with anything else then?” was the cheerful last question.


“Got any plastic pails or an empty Tim Horton’s cup?”

“No, we don’t carry those anymore.”

gah

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