I love living in a small town. Only in Fountain Hills could you become passionately embroiled in shouting wars about the evils of a new Target store or the merits of a doggie park.

As a concerned citizen, I do believe it's time to recognize a genuine crisis in our community. Something has to be done about the subversive tactics employed by the drive-through liquor store. The first offense is down-the-line price gouging on "must have" items like alcohol and cigarettes. But apparently, it wasn't enough to single out and persecute those who prefer to roll up, roll down the window, and hit the road again. Last year, they started hanging posters for Haagen Dasz in full view. Oh, please—isn’t one addiction to a customer enough? And what about the affect on the hired help?  Place me in daily contact with those ice-cream bars and you'd have to punch a hole in the roof and pull me out with a crane.

Which brings me to their most recent power play to boost business: Hiring a guy who looks like George Clooney to stand in the window. Tall, dark and handsome with a teddy-bear frame. Okay, okay, he’s not just a showpiece. He serves customers. But still—what’s next? 

When I asked the new cashier if anyone else thought he looked like the legendary star, he flashed a heart-pounding, Quintessential George, Sexiest Man Alive expression of amusement and admitted, “All the time.” Apparently, he was working as a waiter at a posh restaurant in Florida when a shriveled old widow dripping with diamonds scrunched up her face and pronounced in a volume that turned heads across the room, “You look just like George Clooney…only FAT!” 

The Clooney-look alike is the last straw: A blatant marketing move that shamelessly targets even the coupon-clipping, price-conscious females in our fair town. I'm sure that many of you share my feelings and know exactly where I'm going with this. The drive-through needs to step up to its "pro bono" responsibilities and alter its business model. We ladies need some real emergency retail choices at competitive prices. Things like aspirin, Tums, feminine hygiene products, diapers, laundry soap, baby suppositories, and toilet paper. Toss in some bread, butter, milk and eggs. You know, the kind of last-minute items we would love to be able to pick up without ever leaving the car—especially when we're barefooted, wearing our stained T-shirt with tattered jeans, and have three screaming kids under age five trying to strangle each other in the back seat. 

Those of you who are perceptive enough to grasp the urgency of this situation can join my picket campaign right outside the window of the liquor store—in full view of the cashier. We’re just going to battle this thing as long as it takes.

Copyright © Margaret Michaels 2008 All rights reserved
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