I’m at the self-checkout at the grocery store with my partner, Mike. He passes our rewards card in front of the scanner, and an electronic female voice addresses us.
“Welcome, Valued Customer,” she intones, with all the warmth an industrial recording can muster.
Mike is disgusted. “Do they really think they can manipulate us with that ‘valued customer’ crap?” He looks at me, expecting agreement.
I look back at him sheepishly. “Uh … That makes me feel … um … like a valued customer,” I admit. Read More