Free: at what cost?

One of the many benefits to living in an urban setting like Toronto is that companies will, from time to time, hand out free samples outside of TTC stations. Sometimes it’s shampoo (and they seem to ONLY give those to women), but for two days this week Pop Shoppe has been giving out free boxes of their pop (soda, for my American readers). Not mini-cans. Full size cans in a full size box. So far, I’ve been given Banana and Root Beer. Now: I have given up refined sugar for the past week, but in two “slips”, I’ve tried each. I much prefer the Root Beer, but that’s not what the point of this post is.

The purpose of this post, is this: to ask the question of why, when people hear the word “free”, do they go from civilized human beings to crazy, insane zombies who have only one goal? To get the free stuff.

Braaaaaiins. Freeee braaaaaains.
Photo courtesy of AMC.

Why am I making such a claim? Well, today as I approached to get a free case of pop, a woman decided to walk in front of me, stomping on my toe in the process all to get ahead of me for her free box of pop. After she pushed me twice, I had quite enough and, as my hockey friends would say threw a “bow.” Yes, I stuck an elbow up in a strategic place so that when she moved again it would hit her in the back. Needless to say, she stopped shoving once her spine met with the pointiest part of my elbow. In that moment, I realized that when it comes to free stuff, we are no better than the fictional herds of walkers on The Walking Dead.

Why is that? Why are we so motivated to get something we wouldn’t otherwise buy, just because it’s free? I remember my commuting days when Union Station would be full of people handing out swag. A melee broke out to get Uncle Ben’s rice; free Toronto Stars caused people who might not otherwise run for anything, to break out into a full sprint.

The price we pay for free things, when we act like that, is a loss of dignity. I’m one to talk: as I said, I elbowed someone because she was stepping on me and shoving. But at the end of the day, is that piece of your dignity worth giving up, just to get a free case of pop? In today’s case, it clearly was for Lady Toe Stomper.

 

Now Hiring: Single Best Friend

You must be at least this gangsta to be my BFF

In less than 24 hours my dearest friend and “sista from anotha mista”, Natasja, will be a married woman. This means she gets a promotion to “best married friend.” That means the position of “best single friend” is available (Steph – you are “best engaged friend – don’t fret). In this economy, any job is a good job if you believe Jim Flaherty, and so… I’m pleased to open applications for the position of best single friend.

Wanted: Best Single Friend

Must be:

• Single
• Between the ages of 20 – 25
• Know all the words to Rebecca Black’s “Friday” and Carly Rae Jeppsen’s “Call Me Maybe” (for mocking purposes)
• Experienced in handling a moody, snarky, sarcastic 23-year old male
• Willing to partake in the occasional drinking of alcoholic beverages (G&T drinkers preferred, but not necessary)
• Must answer ALL phone calls; the previous position-holder had a bad habit of not answering her phone

Those interested in the position should tweet @JTerr88 to demonstrate fluency in 21st century technology. Samples of hilarious autocorrect accidents may be asked for. NO PHONE CALLS.

In all seriousness, I’m excited for tomorrow and send pre-emptive best wishes to Natasja and Elijah for 30,000 years of happiness together. Not a minute less.