by Knarf Black XIV, Consumer Advocate/Sandwich-related Subterfuge Whistle-blower
No, it's not global warming you silly bastard; didn't you see Waterworld? I am, of course, speaking of the Subway fast-food chain's "Five Dollar Footlong" promotion.
By now you have undoubtedly been exposed to the campaign's trademark jingle. (Slate has an excellent piece about it, appropriately titled "Jingle Hell") If not, consider yourself one of the lucky few whose minds will not be slowly, painfully destroyed. You see, this is no ordinary musical slogan, it is a painstakingly crafted form of irresistible white-noise that, when heard or even recollected, overwrites the contents of human memory with copies of itself. Filling and overtaking the mind like something out of a Borges story.
With phase one firmly established in the already atrophied pre-frontal cortex of the American consumer, the evil geniuses at Subway Central Command began "lowering" the prices of their footlong sandwiches. Initially this seems like a great deal: a customer can save nearly $1.70 (or almost but not quite the cost of adding chips and a soda) off the price of a higher-end sub like the "Chicken Bacon Ranch." The savings becomes more modest in the midrange section, but thanks to phase one, the drooling masses are not likely to notice.
It is in the basic, no frills, single meat section on the menu where phase three comes into play. Early last year, a customer could find a small selection at prices like $4.89 or even $4.69. During the initial phases, the masses could laugh these off as "pussy" subs and go on to order their prime rib or seafood sensation--where the "deals" are.
With minds clouded by jingles and attitudes coddled by moderate discounts, few noticed the subtleties of the dread phase four. The infectious commercials were scaled back, the large colorful banners replaced with more subdued versions, and the promotion retreated to the low end sandwiches. No longer a "limited time" deal, $5 Footlongs are simply a menu item. This means that the base price of a Subway Sandwich is now a crisp, green Lincoln.
Son of a bitch. Subway just raised their prices on us and we liked it. We thanked them for the simplification of sandwich related math.
It did not take long for stronger minds to cut through the deafening neural-noise and raise their voices in righteous complaint, but the Subway Restaurant corporation was prepared for this eventuality. Hence phase five: the return of full force five dollar footlongs. The garish red banners are back, along with even lamer commercials to reinforce the already endemic neural degridation. No longer are there any footlong menu items listed below the $5 mark, nor is their any indication that this has ever not been the case. They've always cost that much. You don't need a six inch sandwich, you are hungrier than that. It only costs a dollar and change more, anyway.
Five.
Five dollar.
Five dollar foot-looo-oong.
Five dollar.
Five dollar foot-looo-oong.
3 comments:
Subway confounds me. I am equal parts irritated with their subterfuge on this matter and their shitty, dissonant brain-worm jingle, but I do enjoy their delicious sandwiches.
Plus, I swore off fast food as a New Year's resolution, and it's the only one I've ever managed to keep...so Subway is a nice alternative when lunchtime rolls around. I know, Subway is probably technically still fast food, but I don't count it because they don't fry anything, and they use actual food you can identify.
But perhaps the most compelling reason I cannot bring myself to abandon them is that I loathe mayo, and at Subway, you are encouraged to inspect each step of the sandwich-assembly process. So at least I know I'll never wind up biting into my sandwich and experiencing the all-consuming revulsion that arises from a clammy blob of coagulated smegma blurting into my gob with all the appeal and subtlety of the cheap, exploitative porn such a thing invariably reminds me of.
In ancient societies, 5 was a number with mystical connotations. We each have 5 fingers on each hand. 5 toes on each foot. Two fives put together is 10, the common denominator to the modern base 10 counting system. Like lemmings driven to a cliff, the number 5 draws the human mind ever closer.
5. 5. 5. Repeat it enough times and a certain resonance develops within your own body.
5. 5. 5-dollar foot long. Say it while looking in a mirror. You can feel your own blood moving beneath your skin.
Someone at Subway made some sort of dark pact, I guarantee it. A "glammer" which ties a silken bow around our free will, then draws it tight.
5 dollars
5 dollars
5 dollars
before you die, you see
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9mioHO4hoM
Post a Comment