Persuasive Essay On Publix

Improved Essays
Publix: Where Shopping Should Be, But is Not, a Pleasure

I think, in the Fall of 1930, George W. Jenkins endeavored to emulate lionized, yet-to-be-born-television-icon-Oprah-Winfrey. A furtive and sinisterly burly man, I believe, he traipsed into burgeoning Southeastern neighborhoods and bellowed, “You get a Publix! You get a Publix! YOU GET A PUBLIX!” Frightening (and expensive… so, so expensive). No one really wants to go to Publix, but Jenkins opened Pandora’s box 86 years ago, and now Southern consumers are left with little to no choice. Yeah, Target is cheaper… but it’s farther away. I mean, Publix is right there. It’s like tract-housing now; Publix, Publix, house, Publix, Mattress Discounters, Publix, in an insidious, inescapable
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Oh, Publix has prayer candles. I’ll get one and light it for everyone in Southside. Oh, so you pile things in your cart, numb now to how expensive they are– if you’re unfamiliar, just know that Publix doesn’t have a Rewards Card…it’s blasphemous– and remember that you need Boar’s Head Ham. You don’t trust the standard deli ham, something about a Primetime Live expose in the 90s at Food Lion. Boar’s Head would never betray you, you want Boar’s Head. You italicize Boar’s Head. Your religion is Boar’s Head. You go to the deli, and there’s that Take-A-Number system that all delis inexorably have, but no one seems to be enforcing it. There are three lines: deli, sandwiches (PUB SUBS), and hot foods. You don’t want ham anymore, you want some of their signature popcorn chicken (Pub Nugs)– Dancing With the Stars is on tonight, and you forgot, so you have, like, no time to cook (yes, preparing a sandwich is cooking). You drift over toward the hot food line, weaving in and out of residual, abandoned carts and the Hummus Crowd; their chick peas are adjacent to your deli. There’s only one person ahead of you, a mother of four, but instead of ordering the large size, she’s getting four smalls (there’s logic behind a large…it’s the aggregate total of a few smalls… it’s easier). You’re Pub Smug now, but you wait, and the deli clerk’s line of sight overlaps with yours; you trust this

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