Image Credit: Compilation/Jennifer Stahn

I have learned that the makers of a beverage called “Red Bull” (because it is red and is made with something called Taurine, which once came from the testes of bulls) have had to hand out rather a lot of money in $10 increments to their disgruntled customers. They need to compensate them because, contrary to the company’s advertising, Red Bull didn’t really give them wings.

This started me thinking about how many other advertisements are based on fantastical hyperbole, and what financial gain might follow from their exposure.

For example, one coffee maker claims that “the best part of waking up is Folgers in your cup.” No, it isn’t. At my age, the best part of waking up is realizing you didn’t die in your sleep. That’ll be ten dollars if you don’t mind, Mrs. Folger.

I recently accepted the inevitable triumph of quantity over quality and bought wine in a box. The package claimed it would last 3 months; this was an outright lie. The bloody thing was empty in three days. Forget the ten bucks, I’ll consider a lifetime’s supply of Merlot adequate compensation for this one.

On the subject of beverages, Coors Light has been touted by its brewer as “the coldest tasting beer in the world.” Ignoring that coldness isn’t a “taste,” how do they know? Have they asked an independent panel of experts to sample every beer in the world? Besides I have proven beyond any doubt that the best beer in the world by any measure is the first one you open at the end of a hot summer’s afternoon spent mowing the lawn. Case closed. My tenner please.

Sometimes the names of products themselves can be cruelly deceptive. On the television, a company called Maybelline is advertising a “sculpting ball brush.” Since a little re-shaping in that area wouldn’t go amiss, I decided to try one. It wasn’t an unpleasant experience, but the appendages themselves remained stubbornly unsculpted. Most disappointing, and certainly worth some cash compensation.

I could go on, but I have found the mother-load. By far the biggest culprits when it comes to blowing bubbles of false hope are fast food restaurants. The picture of what you order looks absolutely delicious: fluffy bun; plump juicy beef patty; firm, fresh vegetables; thick, luscious cheese. Get to your table, open the little Styrofoam box, and all you’ll taste is disillusionment in the shape of a lopsided lump like an old bath sponge, composed of bouncy, tasteless foam, a greasy sliver of gristle, limp, soggy lettuce and processed-cheese-style-by-product that appears to have been made of glue and yellow.

I have added up all the times my lunch has failed in any way to resemble the glossy picture that caused me to order it. I am happy to report that at $10 a time for my hurt and frustration, the rest of my retirement is now more than adequately funded. If you want me I’ll be writing my claim letters. In Bali.

— The Grumpy Old Git looks EXACTLY like his picture so don't get any funny ideas

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