2000-04-01

I am, like, seriously addicted to priceline.

For plane tickets, yes, even though I inevitably get flights that leave at 6:00 o'clock in the fucking morning, but even moreso, for groceries.

See, with those fabulous half-price tokens, I can get a pint of Ben & Jerry's for $1.50. Stouffer's Macaroni and Cheese for 87 cents. A box of Golden Grahams for $1.47. For a girl who had to, upon leaving the warm, loving, free environment of her family, force herself to become acquainted with all things generic (White Rose & America's Choice, specifically) because she WORKS IN PUBLISHING, buying anything other than Quaker Oats bagged cereals (a brand, yes, but a lesser one) is a pretty big high.

However, while the groceries are indeed monetarily enticing, there are other prices to pay.

To get those coveted tokens -- which take away your need to bid on a price, and ensure you will always get the cheapest price possible (half off) -- you must agree to a host of humiliations. You must say yes, I want to receive five free issues of Soap Opera Digest in my mailbox. Yes, I desire Details. Yes, I fuckin' crave Elle. And Newsweek. And Ebony. And…and…and…oh, the horror. While these issues are theoretically free, think of what I am paying in Intellectual New Yorker integrity. I'm getting Details and Elle! What must my mailman think? Obviously, I need an intervention.

After getting over the above indignities (which, to be honest, I haven't just yet), you would think priceline would make it easy from here on out. You would hope it would say, "Hey, Friendly Consumer. We're making you get Jane delivered monthly, for all the world to see. You have suffered enough. Please, take what you want."

But it doesn't say that.

Instead, it says, "You want Stouffer's Macaroni & Cheese, don't you? You grew up on that shit. Your mom made it for you every Thursday, when you'd get home from Brownies, and you'd just have five minutes to eat a bit of it before your piano lesson started, with that bitch of a teacher, Mrs. Polemani, whose breath always smelled like ass. So it's comfort food, that Stouffer's. But, y'know what? There's no way in hell we're gonna guarantee you satisfaction. You have to pick at least two brands that you'll accept. Do you hear me? Two! And you know what else? We might give you Banquet. We might give you Budget Gourmet (ahahahaha! Budget Gourmet! Wouldn't that be rich?!)]. And you'd have to take it. You're already committed! You are screwed! Bwahahahahaha!"

That's what it says.

Be that as it may, I have never not gotten Stouffers Mac & Cheese. And I have never not gotten Ben & Jerry's. I have, however, gotten Diet Coke when I want Diet Pepsi, and that…well, that was not pretty. Diet Pepsi is one of the few brands from which I just cannot stray. I abhor Diet Coke. The overused battery acid comparison is being kind. It is more like sweetened Alka Seltser. Have you ever had Alka Seltser? It's fuckin' putrid. And sweetening it just makes it all the more cloying.

So, I have a 12-pack of Diet Coke sitting in my refrigerator right now (for only $1.47!). It has remained untouched for about a month. If I entertained, I could foist it upon my guests. However, and this may come as a shock to those who know me, I do not entertain. So it sits. And, I can't bring myself to buy any more soda until the soda I already have is gone. But I can't bring myself to drink that swill. So, it seems I am at an impasse.

If anyone has any suggestions as to what I can do with the Diet Coke, I implore you to pass them on to me. The karma will come back to you, threefold.

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