I opened my email this morning and found an ad from Aldi with the subject line, “Save for Celiac Awareness Month.”
Celiac. Awareness. Month.
Now, I’m not saying celiac disease shouldn’t be researched, and certainly the folks who suffer should have hope for a cure. But that’s not what this is about, is it? Aldi is not, in any way, being altruistic. Aldi isn’t donating for a cure. They aren’t trying to legitimately raise awareness. They are a grocery store with an abundance of gluten free products they need to unload. This isn’t about helping folks with legit gluten issues. It’s about selling gluten free products to the 99% of the population who does not have celiac disease.
I hate this kind of bullshit. Corporate “let’s pretend we care so you’ll keep forking over the cash” mentality.
There’s a new law on the books with which we need to comply at the bakery. In an effort to pretend we care, we now need to display the calorie count for all single serve items. Instead of posting an ugly, tacky menu, our company has chosen to print new display tags to put next to each item.
Now, I’m not saying it’s bad to inform your customers. I just don’t think my customers want to know.
Real talk. No one’s buying things from the bakery because they’re on a health kick. No one sees a cupcake and thinks it’s an acceptable stand in for a stick of celery in their diet plan. People know the shit I sell is unhealthy. They know. And when they are looking for a treat, they do not care.
I’m not opposed to having the information available if people ask. I just don’t see why the government has made it our job to prominently shame people who want a confectionery pick me up.
The one plus is the new fun game I can play now. “Guess How Bad It Really Is.” I don’t have a game show theme song for it yet, but it really has provided me a bit of fun to ask fellow employees, “Wanna guess how many calories this puppy has?”
We sell a type of fancy chocolate cupcake that has raspberry filling and chocolate everything else. It’s very pretty, a real eye catcher, and even though I’ve never had one, raspberries and chocolate?? How could it NOT be utterly delicious?
980 calories for ONE cupcake.
In fairness, it would be difficult to get a whole cupcake down in one sitting. They’re not your average cupcake. They’re huge. Still, I’ve had sad days where I could, in theory, polish the whole thing off if I were so inclined.
We can also play the game in reverse. I tell the calorie count and give three options and folks need to try and guess which one fits. Let’s do one, shall we?
480 calories, and your choices are: single serve cheesecake with raspberries, small rosette cupcake with buttercream, or large stuffed cannoli.
Come on. Timer’s almost up.
If you said, “Cannoli,” no way, sucker! That puppy’s about two hundred calories more! It’s the raspberry cheesecake.
Isn’t this fun?
Guess what’s the worst thing we sell? I’ll give you the total: 1920. One THOUSAND, nine hundred twenty calories for ONE single serve item. That’s an entire day’s worth of calories in one treat.
So what do you think it could possibly be?
Keep in mind, we are a full service bakery. We sell everything from rolls to chocolate dipped strawberries. *tick**tock**tick**tock*
Time’s up! The worst item we sell is…
…you know what? I’m not going to tell you. A guessing game is only fun if you actually guess.
Aside from the new labels of shame, we also offer pamphlets about healthy eating. This one really gets me. I understand offering the nutrition facts about the food we sell. I think they are being very heavy handed and Big Brother-y in the way they’re going about it, but I get it. I do. I think the information about the food we put in our bodies should be available if we care to read it.
The pamphlets, though…Come on. I’m seriously expected to hand someone a cake with one hand and a pamphlet on what they SHOULD be eating with the other? Are you kidding me with this pandering bullshit? Who are you trying to fool? I do not give a rat’s ass about the diets of my customers. Not a whit. If they want to eat a 1920 calorie *redacted for purposes of a game show*, why should I be the one to stop them?
News flash: I’m not their mother. And I shouldn’t be expected to act like one. I make cakes. I make them for people to buy. I’m certainly not going to turn around and say, “Oh, you fell for my trap, you fool! Let me take a minute to educate you on how much of a stupid fucking lard ass you really are…”
I have a couple customers who will ask, “What’s the healthiest thing you sell here?” I always point to the produce section right behind them and say, “We’ve got some great apples and celery on sale this week.” When people ask for the “diabetic friendly” or “healthier” type of icing instead of buttercream (it’s a non-dairy whipped topping), I always point out that NO icing is diabetic friendly and that it is in no way healthier than buttercream.
So I do care if they’re coming at me with misinformation. But, in the end, if they get the unhealthy shit, *shrug*. It’s not my body. I honestly don’t care if they get five *1920 calorie items* and down them in a sad afternoon binge watching The Office for the fiftieth time. I don’t give a rat’s ass. Eat what you want. You’re an adult!
Look, I get that people should be able to be aware of the bad shit they’re putting in their bodies. I guess I just have a problem with a company who SELLS THOSE VERY ITEMS pretending to care. The ONLY reason we’re posting the facts is because the state says we have to. We’re a fucking bakery. The foundation of everything we make is a combination of fat, sugar, and carbs. Of COURSE our shit is unhealthy, and it’s pretty damn hypocritical to be the ones making the unhealthy shit only to turn around and shame the customers who buy it.
…is what I would say if I didn’t care about losing my job. So, uh, you know, great job, Corporate Higher Ups who might be reading this. I love working for a company that cares so much about its customers.
“Nice save, Bethie.”
I thought so.
Thus concludes a quick Musing for Wednesday, May 3, 2017. Holy FUCK it’s MAY. Aw hell. Remember all that cleaning I had to do? I STILL HAVE TO DO IT. Off I go…I’ve got a mop bucket calling my name…