You Are What You Buy

The roller coaster broke at a crucial moment, sending the cars whizzing high into the air, and Wendy turned to her boyfriend and gasped, “We’re going to die!” Indeed, both could see parts flying in midair around them, including wheels that should have been attached to the bottom of their car and firmly anchored to the track.

As they spun across the sky they saw the track receding. Air, and only air, buffeted the steel that held them to their seats. Her boyfriend screamed like a 4 year old girl covered with large spiders.

Time for my life to flash before my eyes, Wendy thought. A couple heartbeats passed and there was no life flashing. Well, she thought — where is it?

Instead, the vision of a familiar red-haired clown appeared before her. “On behalf of the whole McDonald’s corporation,” he said, “I want to thank you for all the food and drinks you bought from us during your life.” His somber, creepy clown-face faded to be replaced by a Barbie doll. “On behalf of Mattel, thank you … thank you … thank you so much for your patronage. We hope our products brightened your young life.”

“What the…?” Wendy shouted, her hair whipping around her in slow motion.

Her favorite jeans company thanked her, followed by three different brands of makeup and hair products. Next it was representatives of the shows she religiously watched. “Thank you,” they told her, “thank you from the bottoms of our hearts.”

Steve Jobs appeared and thanked her for using Apple products so religiously. Desperately she interrupted him and said, “What is this! What the hell?”

“What do you mean?” said the vision of Steve.

“What happened to my life? This is supposed to be my life flashing before my eyes!”

“Wendy,” he said, “this is your life.”

She stared at him, dumbstruck. “This is my life? The products I used?”

Steve shrugged. “You live in a consumerist society. What do you expect? You’re judged by what you buy, and when you die — if you’ve shopped well — your heaven is a huge upscale mall, and you have an endless credit card.”

It took a few precious seconds for her to process this. “Did I shop well?” she asked him.

“Wendy, Wendy, Wendy … if you hadn’t, would I be here right now?” His transparent image smiled before fading, replaced by the horrifying view of her doom.

Wendy stared at the ground rushing at her, suddenly without fear, and urged it to hurry.

She had shopping to do.

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