THE BORN LESAR
The 'neuromarketing principle' made me buy the Twinkies
I have a sudden impulse to write about sudden impulses. Better that, I suppose, than having an endless longing to write about endless longings. I might never get to the end of that.
OK, so, speaking of sudden impulses, I blame whichever clerk at the local convenience store it was who so carelessly and inconsiderately stacked boxes of Twinkies near the cash register, and then went to stock items near the rear of the store and made me ring a bell to get her attention so that when she said 'Be right there' she actually wasn't and so I had like 20 seconds to look at that stack of Twinkie boxes and say, 'No, I shouldn't' and turn away but then turn back and think, 'Yeah, but I deserve it' even though I really don't.
Yeah, it was the clerk. It's her fault. Without an adult there to slap my fingers and say, 'Dean, no!' what power did I have?
It was odd, actually, because earlier on the same day of my unplanned stop at the store I had thunk to myself, 'Man, a Twinkie sure sounds good right about now,' not that I don't think of that almost every day and twice on Saturdays anyway. And then, there they were, right at the check-out spot, just waiting for me, in their luscious golden creme-filled cake wonderfulness. Pure destiny? Well, duh.
Of course, items such as Twinkies are purposely placed at strategic spots in stores, because people who get rich selling such stuff know full well that most people are big of belly and weak of will and such 'impulse buys' are beyond their control to resist. If that same item were buried on a lower shelf somewhere in the middle of the store, you'd pass it by, but there, right on the counter as you're unloading your basket, well, it's, 'Why, what's this? Hello, darlin.' Wanna come home with Daddy?'
Yeah, I heard it, too. Kinda creepy.
One time several years ago, as me and my then 14-year-old son were in a convenience store, I snatched a bag of M& M cookies at the counter just before checkout, and even he pointed out that it was a poor choice made in a weak moment. After I made a mental note to scold his teacher for advising him about wise decision-making, I explained to my son that everything his father has ever done and ever will do is proper and that questioning any of it only means there's a better chance I'll leave a larger share of my estate to the son who just eats an M& M cookie and leaves the old man alone. He was right, though, it was an impulse buy, and I fell right into the clever trap set by the merchant. But dang, those cookies were yummy.
Peculiar part is I'm not an impulsive person in any other setting. Matter of fact, I hesitate on most any purchase, I carefully weigh out the pros and cons, calculate the actual need, and reject most items as frivolous. On almost all life choices, I opt for the status quo over the new and unknown. When someone approaches me with, say, a raffle ticket, I hem and haw over the purchase possibility for so long that the drawing date usually passes first. Really, the only major buy I ever made quickly was for an elderly relative's coffin, and I figured, 1.) She ain't gonna know the difference, and 2.) It's just goin' in the ground.
Yeah, no, probably best not to name me executor of your estate.
According to the neuromarketing principle, which is a highfalutin' notion that I found within five seconds on the internet, 'impulse buying is not only inspired by a variety of internal psychological factors but also influenced by external, market-related stimuli.' Now I have no idea what that means, but since I figured this whole batch of nonsense would sound much more credible if I slapped quotation marks around something, I suppose we have to delve into it a little. Wow, look at that. Another impulsive decision.
Anyway, one factor that may lead to impulse buying is related to self-identity, or the perception you want others to have of you. The example given online is of a person buying a fancy watch, not because they need to know the time, but because wearing that watch will make others think more highly of them. In other words, the theory suggests, I bought the Twinkies because I thought you'd respect me more, but then it turns out you think more of me as a slovenly hog than you did before. And I don't blame you. So do I.
Another impulse buying theory posits that a person actually has an emotional response when spending money without any forethought. In some cases, the person feels real joy in that thing they bring home, while in others it helps them cope with sadness. Impulse buying, some believe, is a form of 'self-gifting' through which one lifts their own spirits by buying themselves something. In my Twinkie example, then, since I knew nobody else was gonna buy the damn sponge cake for me, I just went ahead and grabbed a box myself and shoved all 10 of 'em down my piehole when I got home. Cried like a baby afterwards, but ya' know, I felt so much better.
Weak shoppers like me really have no choice when merchants are experts at overcoming our usual defenses against surprise spending sprees. They do evil stuff, such as marking down the price of an item and visibly displaying the great sale, and, as we've already determined, they use certain locations to increase the odds that we'll bite. Put those Twinkies near the store entrance, and I'll probably walk past them, but stack some boxes at the end of my run, and, well, by that time I'm as helpless as a hungry rat at a laboratory researchers' cheese pile.
Sometimes -- and thankfully this is rare -- you'll see two great impulse buy choices. This wasn't the case the other day, but just what if -- my hands are getting sweaty already -- there were Twinkies and Ho-Hos near the check-out counter, equally priced, same size boxes? The question changes then, not Should I buy one, but Which will it be?
One of each? Well, duh.
