Overactive
I was accidentally stranded this late morning at the supermarket at my corner. A fauna of senior citizens were staring at the small price labels, while young mothers were double pushing strollers and shopping carts. A lost lust provoking sun tanned youth was navigating among the selves, parading his fake P-Diddy diamond ear stud and one size too small flip-flops. Finally, the sales assistant took an incredibly long time with my eggplant salad and pork meatballs, but I have managed to make it to the cashier, who melted my heart with a brief loathe-loaded look. Had it been laser, this account would have not been to start with. I love the supermarket at the corner. It is called Gulliver, and we the clients are always cast as Lilliputians.
Other random thoughts
Google me gently. No more googling me?
I sometimes think we are doomed to be caught in the loop of the same mistakes. Also known as routine.
Sales beats marketing. This is a rant. I am a subscriber for a magazine, and I cannot help but noticing and be bothered by a situation that has been repeating itself during the past months. In brief, the magazine hits the stands upon release, but it takes two more weeks before it reaches me, a member of their constant readership and also a guarantor for their regular income. I feel neglected and frustrated by this type of relations with the client and I do not intend to fall for a renewal of my subscription. Proof that sales are not marketing, nor vice versa. In Romania sales are the marketing of the moment, and that is a shame.
