Archive for August, 2011

Badlibs

Perhaps I a simply expecting too much when I start picking apart promotional jingles for small businesses. But seriously, who recorded this thing?:

“Sardella’s pizza and wings,
Only Sardella’s has my favorite things,
Sardella’s!”

Really? I like your pizza, Sardella’s (can I call you Della?), but you’re going to claim to have a monopoly on my “favorites?” Either you think you have an incredibly narrow customer base, or else you’ve got a side room or something I’ve managed to overlook somehow for the last decade.

It has been brought to my attention by a clearer-thinking individual that in may have also been an unimaginative lyricist.

Now, this jingle is too short to parody but too awesome to pass by. So I’ll do the next best thing: take it literally.

*          *          *

I loitered just a moment in the menu-viewing area—that clearly marked section in which the staff understands the patron is contemplating his purchase, and therefore knows not to ask what you’ll be ordering. It’s brilliant for when there’s no line… like right now. After making a self-paced, no-pressure decision, I approached the friendly, black-dressed staff member, and placed my order. As she read-back my order, her words were well enunciated, and pace moderate, but she made no eye contact.

Pocketing my receipt, I read the promotional poster near the register:

Free energy drink with the
purchase of any bass-heavy progressive rock
album of your choice.

“Huh,” I thought to myself, “I didn’t know Della’s had gotten into the exclusive record business… oh well, works for Starbucks.” I grabbed the first disc that caught my eye, The Best of Bands Featuring Tony Levin. “Ring this up too,” I said.

“Oh, please sample it first. You can swipe it at our listening station first, at your table.”

As I sat at my table, I immediately noticed the cushioned bench and slightly reclined back rest. It seemed as if this table were designed with the comfort of the occupant in mind, rather than to quickly drive one out.

Examined the scanning and playback device on the table, which resembled a jukebox, I spied a small a small label stuck to the bottom corner: “Now supporting streaming through your smartphone, tablet or eReader. Not compatible with Apple devices.” Snickering, I pulled out my Droid and put on my headphones.

Somewhere between “Discipline” and “Acid Rain” my food arrived, along with a complementary pamphlet explaining the company’s decision to move their computer systems to Linux, with a breakdown f how they were passing that savings on to the customer. “You can change the channel, if you’d like,” the server mentioned. Tapping a button on the playback device, I switched from the space exploration documentary that had been playing to a special on various breeds of dogs.

The bell over the door rang announcing the arrival of a new patron. I couldn’t help but notice that the high-pitched electronic “ding’” I had grown accustomed to had been replaced with a warmer, fuller bell. My friend [name omitted] had arrived.

“Sup?!” he called in the general direction of the staff area. There were friendly nods but no verbal responses. He sat opposite me.

“Sup.”

“Sup.”

“Hey… where’s the crushed red?”

“Baked into the cheese. Where else would it be?”

*          *          *

And now the madlib, er, “badlib.” What would you find at a store, restaurant, or some establishment peddling all your favorite things, no matter how improbable? Feel free to comment.