"Loyalty" by it's real name doesn't sound so sweet...

Friday afternoons are like tiny versions of Christmas in this house, and it’s all because Friday morning is “groceries day”.  

Saturday-Thursday is a whole process of looking at the calendar and seeing which meals would work best for which nights - (Do we need to do a crock-pot dinner on a day that I’ll be gone all afternoon?  Which nights have softball games and would be best with portable food?) - and then writing up the menu, taking inventory of the ingredients, making out the lists, and rounding up any discounts I can find.  The stockpile of the previous week starts to dwindle by about Wednesday night, and on any given Thursday you can find my kids trying to decide between eating a stale cracker they found in the bottom of the popcorn bin or the half brown banana by the fruit bowl.  Sometimes I manage a midweek stop to grab a few tide-me-overs, but we’re a busy family and I can get pretty creative in the kitchen.  Anything that can be pushed off till Friday usually is, and I spend the a.m. hours on the last day of each work-week running to the gas station, post office, library, bank, and - most importantly to my children - several grocery stores; stocking up on the things we will need over the next seven days.    

Last week I was finishing up the rounds, and had just walked into the final store on my route a few minutes before lunch time, when something caught my attention.  There, standing next to the strawberries, was a sign which depicted a woman holding the “loyalty” card for the store and smiling broadly.  Above her head were the words “Exclusive Deals for our Loyal Customers.”  In this case - by “loyal customers” - they were referring to any warm-bodied human who had a specifically coded little card like the one that I carried in my purse; a “loyalty card.”  It got me thinking.  Am I a “loyal” customer?  Yes, I have the magic plastic, but is there any allegiance tied to it, or - for that matter - to the store or chain of stores I was shopping at?  

I did go there every week- but that was just because they were the closest grocery to my house that still carried the exact type of almond milk that was my favorite.  I visited several stores every “grocery day”.  In fact, I had a handful of cards from some of those retailers, as well!  And to others a “loyalty number” that I could use in place of an actual card.  These multiple cards and codes suggested a real commitment issue at the least, and at worst bore witness to a deception of epic proportions; full-fledged consumer adultery!

I didn’t really like what this implied about my character.  Was I un-loyal?!?!  A traitor, a turn-coat, a deserter, imposter, a hypocrite?!?!?  No, that surely can’t be.  I am loyal to some things, right?  I began to list them off in my head…

At the top of that list is God (though this would be called “faith” in most cases, it carries a sense of loyalty in that I would serve Him above all else) and made me feel much better.  Second is easily my family.  I’d die for them in a heartbeat, so I couldn’t be a complete monster, no matter what the supermarkets were implying.  Third would be my country.  If this list sounds familiar I think that’s because it’s been the theme of countless books and songs and mottos.  What would come next?  My church would be on the list, as would my community at some point on down.  Probably political stances (not necessarily parties, just principals).  But if retailers appear at all then they’re several pages in, that’s for sure.

So what was this intriguing concept they were calling “loyalty” and rewarding with financial compensation?  I pushed my cart along in search of eggs and the answer to this mildly philosophical question.  The philosophy was easier to find, in this case.  (Who keeps eggs in a refrigerated end cap near the shampoo?!  Typically I get my eggs at another store, but I had forgotten…)  

Somewhere in the cereal aisle I determined that what the store was calling “loyalty” was actually a trifecta of significantly less noble qualities.  

First - and foremost - was already alluded to; convenience.  This store was about 3 minutes from my house.  The next store that carried my almond milk was nearly 10 minutes away, and five times the size (making the ‘quick in-and-out’ more difficult).  My time is limited, and I value it, so I am easily bought by efficiency.  It could be truthfully stated that my loyalty was at least ⅓ appreciation for convenience.

But what about the other stores - some of which I was a carded member of?  Why did I keep returning to those places?  Why didn’t I just get everything at this convenient little grocery?  In a few cases it came down to the savings; exclusive discounts, accumulating rewards, coupons…  I am a big fan of keeping as much of my money as I can.  Country is third on my list and I still firmly think that most taxes are just legalized, organized robbery, so you can bet that I am not eager to pay more for the same thing at any retailer who may or may not be on the list at all.  In the case of this little store, I could find most things cheaper elsewhere, and they didn’t carry a few of my favorites at all.  So their main contribution was the almond milk, and anything else I’d missed at previous - less expensive - stops.  If I can save money there then I will shop there, as long as the savings aren’t over-ridden by inconvenience.  My loyalty’s DNA is filling out now: 30% convenience, 30% frugality… neither are bad qualities…

This last bit is the part I’m less proud of.  Like the sliver of Polock in my ancestry, I don’t readily admit to it, but I cannot deny it.  Laziness.  We have lived in Ohio for 16 ½ years, and I have used the same pharmacy for 15 of them.  Why?  Because they were one of only 3 pharmacies in our area that had a drive-through window (see section on convenience) and were the only one offering a discount on generic antibiotics (see section on frugality).  By the time they had my insurance card on file and my phone number for notifications, and were just a click on the doctor’s computer that eliminated the need to drop off the script, it was far easier to simply keep using them rather than go anywhere else and start that process over again.  Long after the antibiotic promo ended and other pharmacies put in drive-through windows.  Why?  Not because of any allegiance, but because it is far too much work to find another pharmacy, give them all of my info, let my doctor know about the change and relay the new phone number to them…  It is definitely laziness - not loyalty - that has bought my prescription business these 15 years.

What the stores call “loyalty” - at least in my case - comes down to my inclination toward efficiency, frugality and lack-of-effort.  When they call me a “Loyal customer” they actually mean “busy, stingy, lazy customer.”  That is not a good marketing strategy, though, which demonstrates why the cards read what they do.  “Loyalty” gives off a much more honorable vibe; places a noble purpose on my otherwise pathetic repeat patron-ship.  Beneath flowery language it disguises the fact that I sold my allegiance in exchange for a coupon that’s good through next Tuesday; I traded by consumer-soul for $0.75 off of frozen chicken breasts.  At least until some other store beats that deal.  They appeal to my principled nature by calling me something that I’m not, really: Loyal.  And what else would you expect?  They can’t hope to hand out a great number of “Harried-miser-bum” cards, after all.  You wouldn’t get too many repeat customers after insulting them with the truth.