Join the Club

Groucho Marx famously never wanted to belong to a club that would have him as a member. He’d have a hard time getting along today. These days it seems like every store on the planet wants you to belong to their club. They don’t always call it a club though, instead they prefer something like “frequent buyers program.” I call it what it is, yet another data collection scheme.

I found it interesting when Edward Snowden clued us in about the NSA’s nefarious activities. People were outraged. But if you think about it, while we don’t want anyone tracking our phone calls, we do willingly give out data about everything else on a daily basis.

Grocery stores have long had these programs in place and for quite some time, I resisted signing up for them. But eventually the lure of lower prices on both groceries and gas (the more you spend on food, the less you spend on gas, oh boy) pulled me in. So now there is a file somewhere on everything I buy at the market. I’m sure it’s a fascinating read that leads to conclusions like “Boy this guy eats a lot of peanut butter” and “does anyone really need that much garlic?”

Personally, I’d prefer a world where lower prices are not tied to being in a club. But this is not that world. Need a book? Don’t forget to join the club; you’ll save ten percent. Sure, I suppose someone will then be able to track my reading habits, but really, does anyone actually care how many David Sedaris books I’ve read?

The list is endless.

Whether I’m buying office supplies, vitamins, or a pair of jeans, literally every store I shop in asks me for a membership card at the register. On those now rare occasions when I don’t have the card, the clerk immediately offers to sign me up. “It just takes a minute,” says the clerk. It takes much longer of course. Naturally everyone in line behind me is secretly hoping I’ll pass on the offer, which is when the clerk adds, “it actually pays for itself.”

This might even be true but the complex algebraic equations required to verify it are now long beyond my brain capacity. Plus, if it really does pay for itself, why am I the one shelling out the money? Shouldn’t the card be picking up the tab? And while it’s at it, can it cover my mortgage?

Radio Shack was ahead of its time in the data collection market and look how well that turned out. For years we gave Radio Shack our name and address just to make some innocuous purchase like speaker wire. I was always tempted to give 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue as my address, but somehow I thought the Secret Service might not appreciate the humor. Perhaps if Radio Shack had spent less time collecting addresses and a little more time on their business model, they’d still be in business today.

Now that I’ve caved in and belong to all of these clubs, I need to carry a lot more cards. I’m hoping that with all these discounts, I can use the money I save to buy a new wallet because my old wallet cannot possibly hold all the discounts cards I need.

In an effort to keep up, there are new businesses jumping on the card club bandwagon every day. Imagine what will happen when doctors catch on to this scheme. “Sir I’m terribly sorry, but you have diabetes. However, the good news is you’ll now qualify for our frequent patient card, which entitles you to a ten percent discount. “Think about it sir. Why, it practically pays for itself.”

Meanwhile, someone in a dimly lit room somewhere is getting a pretty good picture of what your life is like. So the next time you buy a book, think about that person. Don’t get the same old mystery novel. Think about that guy in that room. He’s waiting for that one moment of excitement. Think of the thrill he’ll get when he sees that out of the blue, you’ve purchased a science fiction book.

Imagine the smile on his face when he sees that you’ve switched from whole milk to the low fat version. Or, if you really want to mess with his head, switch from boxers to briefs and back again, twice. The poor guy will be in a panic.

For me, it’s too late now. I’m in more clubs than I can even remember. And if someone is really that interested in how much cereal I eat (a lot) well then good for them. But the more I think about it, the more I think maybe Groucho Marx was right.