Seriously. Groupon? It’s like a barnacle or a really bad boyfriend who doesn’t “get” that you broke up with him weeks ago and somehow he still thinks you are his date for spring formal. You think to yourself, what do I have to do to get rid of him forever? And the answer is. . .
I have no blasted idea.
Because in the great existential race of life, Groupon is winning. In fact, I am still trying to park my car at the start, and Groupon already has a banana, a bagel and fresh water, barely sweating after spanking me at the race.
And because of Groupon I sit here on January the SECOND, only 30-some hours into the clean slate, already behind on one of my visions for the year. (I don’t do “resolutions” because they are middle brow and synonymous with “failure” so I simply rename them “visions” and voila! they have a vaguely spiritual air.)
The vision: to be a more mindful consumer of goods and services and to above all resist the siren call of “the great deal” (I am sneering at you, Groupon).
As per usual, I learned to value this vision the hard way. Just days ago, I was laid up in a hotel room in Los Angeles puking and parenting, when all I should have had on my mind was Gatorade and fresh linens. But, instead, I kept thinking about a Groupon for a mani/pedi that was set to expire on January 3, 2013. I was so angry about having to deal with this (because I had been ignoring it for approximately 8 months) that I swore to the high heavens that I would never put myself in that position again.
I swore again this morning when all I wanted to do was write, but I had to deal with the damn Groupon. As I parked my car, the mantra never again was uttered as a plea/prayer to anyone who would listen.
Gratefully, the nail lady went super fast so I wasn’t stuck in the harsh lights with the awful Cameron Diaz-Jude Law rom com blaring in my face. I was almost done . . . and then.
The fast technician who I was just praising in my head said something about “renewal” and a “good deal.” I should have just pretended I heard her and turned back to my book.
“Excuse me?” I said, barely above a whisper.
Good news, everyone! The salon, which is not near my house or my new job, is having a post-Groupon special! I can get two mani/pedis for $39.00! (Like Groupon’s cold dead hand from the grave, snatching my soul.)
I tried to make mouth form that powerful one-word sentence: “NO.” It wouldn’t come. Instead, I went with that other special one-word sentence: “OK.”
Now, here I sit with TWO more mani/pedis that I have to use. I can already feel the pressure and panic about using them before they expire. What if my wallet is stolen before I can use them? Or what if my fingernails fall off? What if the place goes out of business?
See, I don’t need this. This was not part of the vision.
I totally blame Groupon.