Hidden far north on the touristy roads of vacationland, a petrol station clamors for your business. And these days, you have to take that sweet cheddar where you can get it. Let’s face it, route 1 gets pretty sleepy this time of year, and if you can sell someone a liter of cola or chicken salad from three days ago, you have to try.
This one gas station though…they don’t get it.
They concoct a new item to steal your test buds away from your mouth. And their first attempt at roadside signage to wet your appetite:
Are you maudlin? Try a lobster roll!
What!? First of all, as always, you must know your audience. I know the types of people that buy food at gas stations. I’ve done it on occasion! A hamburger in the shape of a hotdog!? Churning slowly in a sweaty rotisserie of delight? Sure. A half of a “Massachusetts” style Italian sub? Why not? We know what the stuff is, horrible microwave mutant-food that will taste like salt and have you pooping in no time. And some can’t turn it down.
Those people. Those people who love gas station “food,” they do not use the word maudlin. They do not know what it means. They say things like “NASCAR!” or “One more roll of duct tape ought to hold the rearview.”
Furthermore, even if we know what they mean, do we really KNOW what they mean?
Am I in the midst of a tearful fit that only low-grade lobster meat can cure? Am I pining for those long-lost summer months to such a great extent that I need even the shittiest lobster roll to remind me of those precious sunny days. Am I drunk/hungover and am suddenly reminded that lobster rolls are the greatest thing invented in the history of ever, well, behind maybe prank calls and that wet noise I can make with my belly button?
Now I’m confused. They make an expensive New England snack for their gas station, and market it to sophisticates. But alas, it’s new. And we must recognize that most station attendants are not viral marketing experts! So, surely after suffering two weeks of angered British gentlemen, rapping on the glass with their thin canes, and peering in hotly through fine-framed spectacles…
“Now see here! I am not Maudlin. Nor would I fathom, even momentarily sampling the rancid waterbugs of your puerile delicatessen!”
Maybe after all the proper shouting subsides. Or even with the first yokel that walkes though and says,
“Awwww you boys is just a getting all faaaaancy.”
Then, maybe then they would know that something was amiss. They would recognize some better way to sell lobster rolls.
And eventually, the sign did change!
Are you loutish? Try a lobster roll!