Cash Cow Con

My ! How times have changed ! Used to be Robber Barons dealt in oil and railroads. Now, they deal in retail.

It's gotten so bad that instead of carrying wallets, men are pulling eight-foot safes on trolleys behind them through the superdome shopping malls in order to pay for their Christmas shopping. The congestion is awful.

Remember when buying Christmas gifts was fun? Back in the days when a double sawbuck of purchased goods would fill a semi?

Now, a plain gray, fifteen-dollar sweater at the local emporium costs a C-note.

I hadn't realized prices had gotten so out-of-hand until my son and I went on a Happy-Holiday-Shopping expedition recently.

We had to bring our insurance broker along to write up the policies on our major investments before we left the store.

There were security guards at the entrance to the retail shops. They checked our Dun-and-Bradstreet ratings before allowing us in. They couldn't burglarize our pocketbooks or glom onto our land titles if we were regular working stiffs.

Which has its advantages. At least, we didn't have to fight the enormous holiday-shopper crowds of years past when the average Joe could afford to buy a pair of boots and a bottle of perfume for his wife.

Now, the retailers call it l'eau d' par d' fumes and charge two hundred-and-sixty-six dollars an ounce for a mere whiff of the scent. I had to ask the clerk if I could, at least, take the plastic bottle home with me since I was obligated to spend the bankroll for the whiff.

It's not as if these racketeers are recognizable crooks like Jesse James or "Duke" Cunningham, either. Retailers come in all shapes and sizes. I overheard another customer refer to them as shoplifters! Enter their shop and they'll lift all your liquid assets, money market certificates and 401K retirement policies.

And I noticed they don't use cash registers any more; they open the vault door and deposit their capital gains directly onto the shelf marked: Another Unsuspecting Schmuck Fleeced.

Nope. Shopping for Christmas gifts ain't what it used to be. The essence of the season has been pawnbrokered by the rapacious appetites of this new breed of Robber Barons.

Perhaps, instead of renaming it: Holiday Shopping, they should just call it what it is: Cash Cow Con.
Cash Cow Con © 2005 Chaeli Lee Sullivan