Retail has become retail warfare.
Loblaws’ plan to force people to scan their receipts to unlock a gate that lets them leave the store is a bridge too far.
It really is. Arnhem Bridge in 1944. The Allies couldn’t seize the bridge, a bit of a pickle as it left them unable to cross the Rhine and speed their way to victory.
Holding me in a Loblaws store after I did them the courtesy of entering their increasingly wretched emporium would give me claustrophobia, me, Galen Weston Jr.’s prisoner. If he sells Holt Renfrew, we are done, sir.
I’ve already fought in the trenches over the enemy’s (i.e. Loblaws') supply-chain obstacles: underweight chip bags; the attempt to end the 50 per cent discount on older food; the mystery of the “ungraded” beef; and the storied shrinkflation strategy.
But this? Having almost immediately lost the receipt, all I’m trying to do is retreat. You’d think Loblaws would rejoice at getting their revolting customers out of the store faster.
I see a pattern. Retail used to be a seamless recreational experience. We saw beautiful and useful things and made them ours. But now we’re on a wartime footing. Rationing approaches. You take what you’re given.