Dear Amritsar,
It’s every man’s worst nightmare.
I was shopping for a gift for my girlfriend, Ernestine Butterballa (her family is from Valhalla). It was only February 17th, so I figured I had about a week before the situation became critical, but I wanted to get it over with anyway. That’s just the thoughtful kind of guy I am.
I decided I would get her an I 2 I. I know they’re a bit pricey, but we hadn’t been getting along lately (I swear, she was spending more time with the vacuubot than me – the house was sparkling, but still…), so now was not the time to get all Jewy about it. (I can say that because Ernestine is three seventeenths Semitic, with a side order of fries to go.)
I went to the West Edmonton Mall because, well, that’s what you do when you live in Gander. They have these new digital billboards on walls and over stores all over the WEM (yeah, I know nobody actually calls it that, even me). Almost as soon as I got there, somebody whispered in my ear, “Is your life a constant misery because of…you know…a lack of freshness?”
I quickly walked past a billboard of a woman playing tennis on a horse. Unfortunately, the next billboard stated quite openly, “It’s the problem that your friends will be too embarrassed to tell you about. At least, it will be if they really are your friends. Friendship is complicated that way.” That one had a waterfall that suddenly for no discernible reason was bathed in red light.
I knew I could buy Ernestine’s present at Telex Shack, and I knew where the closest of the 13 outlets in the mall was. But, the further in I got, the more shrill the advertising became. Before I knew it, I was inundated with shrieking messages about “Not letting your red headed monthly visitor keep you from doing the things you love, like water skiing volleyball,” “The smoker you drink, the player you get” and “Don’t be embarrassed by a natural process that we can’t talk about directly in this ad, but can go into graphic detail about on our Web site (www.redheadedvisitor.com).” Everywhere I turned! It was overwhelming! I wasn’t halfway to the Telex Shack when I couldn’t take it any more!
Long story shortish, I ended up being chased out of the West Edmonton Mall by tampon ads.
What the hell happened? Am I going to have to go full Islam (I can say that because I once met somebody who looked Arab on the subway and we got along well enough – I mean, he didn’t blow me up or anything) just to buy my sweetheart a Valentine’s Day trinket?
Victor Whitebread
Hey, Babe,
When you enter most public spaces these days, you are scanned for body type and facial structure; this determines whether you have boy parts or girl parts. In shopping malls, the results are then fed into the computers that run the billboards, which subsequently project ads towards you based on the analysis of your gender. It’s sort of like that scene out of the film Minority Report, except without the Eric Rohmer references or garlicky aftertaste.
The computer obviously mistook you for a person with girl parts, and advertised to you accordingly. You must have cute dimples. Really cute dimples. Congratulations.
Still, is this really the worst thing that can happen to a man? Really? My Exaggerated Hyperbole Detector (only $49.99 at Telex Shack) is in the Y2K Red Zone! Have you ever been stuck on an airplane for several hours seated next to a Ventrosian squiggle insurance salesman? If you had, you might have a different definition of “worst.” Or, for that matter, “thing.”
Or, you could be David Bowie. The computer algorithm that determines gender could not figure him out, causing a meltdown that resulted in the billboards throughout London’s Cardinal Place displaying old Ozzie and Harriet episodes. Did you think Bowie had become reclusive since he retired from rock music? Hardly! The London Chamber of Commerce got an injunction against him appearing in public for fear that he would single-handedly destroy the British economy!
And, you think you’ve got it bad.
Oh, and when you say “going full Islam,” I assume you mean wearing a burqa to hide your face and figure. Don’t bother. The infrared sensors used by shopping malls were originally developed by the military to detect nuclear weapons in fortified bunkers: they can see through several inches of concrete.
My suggestion for dealing with this problem would be to buy yourself a box of tampons or six. When the scanner notices that you have them, the billboards might advertise a different product. If they don’t and you are once again chased out of the mall, at least you will have something you can give your girlfriend for Valentine’s Day.
Oh, and, Babe, Mutant Technologies has announced that it is taking the I 2 I off the market, but, if you hurry, you should be able to find one or two on ehBay at an only mildly outrageous markup. I highly recommend that you purchase one and use it as quickly as possible; I think a sensitive guy like you will find it most enlightening.
Send your relationship problems to the Alternate Reality News Service’s sex, love and technology columnist at questions@lespagesauxfolles.ca. Amritsar Al-Falloudjianapour is not a trained therapist, but she does know a lot of stuff. AMRITSAR SAYS: who would have guessed that the Gordon Lightfoot song “If You Could Read My Mind” actually portrayed a horror story?