My wife is particular. Favorite brand of this. Won’t touch that. I understand and try and adapt to this part of her nature. I’m not sure I’m that much better anyway.
It didn’t bother me when she asked me to pick up some toothpaste for her at the local drugstore. How hard is it to pick up some toothpaste? That was my first mistake.
I mean, how hard can it be? Keep this in mind. The last time I bought toothpaste was a little over a year and three tubes of Cinnamon toothpaste gel ago. TGFA (Thank Goodness for Amazon!)
Well, let me tell you. That gooey, paste or gel can make your brain swell and pop — like one of those science fiction movies with the exception that you’ll have whiter teeth and better smelling breath.
Mission accepted. Begin:
I sauntered into the drugstore jauntily on an easy mission. Me, Man. Strong, proud and in control. I know the store well; the aisle found without hesitation.
Name brand found. Eyes searched once, twice, three times for the suitable gel. (Remember, remember, remember: Gel not paste. Gel not paste.) As few additives as possible. Don’t need whitening. Don’t need baking powder, baking soda, Scope, Listerine, Crayola.) Just get gel. How hard can it be?
Second mistake.
Life is not like a box of chocolates, Mr. Gump. Life is trying to find plain gel toothpaste in your local drugstore.
I had to walk away, do something else, anything else and come back. Had to text the wife. “Having some difficulty finding a plain gel. Any preferences?” Translation: What the hell do you want?
Now, here’s where I explain how life is like a tube of toothpaste. We have created an economy, a lifestyle, based on choice. Those choices, instead of making life easier, have complicated things so much that we can’t make any decisions at all.
How many bloody types of toothpaste can you use in a day, week, month, year? How many different cars can you drive? How expensive can you afford? How can you drive the economy forward by tantalizing, teasing, testing, marketing, probing to find the way to free the money from our wallets?
When they finally find that magic pill that separates our money from our pockets, if they haven’t been treating the water with it already, then they’ll probably have to have pills that range from good to better to best. They, the nameless, faceless “they’s” won’t be able to control themselves.
Instead of moving forward, we’ll come to a screeching stop. We’ll stand in pools of our own drool and drown in indecision.
Toothpaste is just the beginning of the end!
Oh, and by the way, I bought the wrong toothpaste.