A couple of months ago, my good older brother turned me on to a new Internet meme, a little something called Groupon. Maybe you've heard of it. While it originally sounded to me like a disease suffered by Civil War vets, my brother sold me on the idea of dropping ten bones on a $20 return. Since signing up I've discovered that it wasn't so much my best interests he was looking out for, but the $10 referral credit he was after. Ain't older siblings great? But this piece isn't a rant about youngest−child syndrome; I save those for the occasional Cuervo−induced blackout heart−to−hearts. No, this is a rant about online coupons.
A couple of days ago, I got offerings for 59 percent off at Sal's Custom Dry Cleaning and then half−off introductory scuba lessons in Merrimack. "Wow," I thought. For six months now, I'd been filling the tub with sand and coral reefs and bobbing my head in. Scuba lessons in the middle of winter, only 45 minutes away, seemed much more delightful. Plus I wouldn't be calling the plumber twice a week to rescue my clownfish, Jamaal. And 59 percent off not just any old dry cleaning, but custom dry cleaning from a place I imagine doubles as a pizza joint? Well, with a value like that it's almost worthwhile to wear clothing. Both of these offers came right after deals for Brazilian waxing and laser hair removal. I was about to be one smooth scuba diver with the cleanest clothes AND junk this side of the Mississippi. But then I realized something: Who gives a fluffy bunny about any of this crap?
I know there are some of you out there who await the daily LivingSocial e−mail, much like Billy Madison on Nudie Magazine day. The Groupon cat is your personal Confucius (Who once said, BTW, "Man who stand on toilet, high on pot." Wise man.) And on top of that, you Grouponists think of yourselves as the magnificent cognoscenti of the shopping world. Well guess what, you're not. You're perpetrating a system of junk mail that has plagued our country for decades.
Offering me 55 percent off on Shutterfly calendars? A) What the hell is a Shutterfly calendar? B) I live in the 21st century. I have a cell phone with a calendar. Furthermore, I'm a student; where the hell do I ever actually have to be? I have the date May 22 painted on my wall so I know it's time to go get my diploma. Other than that, I think I'm free.
Seriously though, Groupon and LivingSocial are just brilliant scams based on getting Americans to spend money on stuff they don't want. And you don't become a company soon to be worth $15 billion, as Groupon might be with some new investors, without some sly swindling. Notice the offers for Zumba and Pilates right around New Years. A little resolution madness, no? These companies are celebrated middlemen hawking worthless junk. For example: on Dec. 9, they offered 50 percent off a one−year membership to the deCordova Sculpture Park and Museum. Who wants that? What's next? 95 percent off two tickets to any Nick Cage movie for the next decade?
Who are the people buying this crap? I just don't underst … hold on a second … $30 worth of food and drink at Redbones BBQ for $15 … well … I mean … I guess … uh, this is kinda awkward. I take it back. Groupon is the bomb! I promise. Try it out. It's basically like free money. Just make sure to list me as your reference − Stephen.Miller@tufts.edu. It's really cool. They have sweet deals all the time. And remember, referred by this guy, Stephen.Miller@tufts.edu. Note the spelling. It's a PH, as in pharaoh. Happy shopping!
P.S. Stephen.Miller@tufts.edu.
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