As you all know I'm normally a moderate and even-tempered guy. Few things get my line in a backlash. But there is a business concept that is so nefarious, so greedy and now so pervasive that I used to go from placid to near-stroke at hearing a single phrase.
It's the concept of "selling-up" and I blame McDonald's. Enough people either nodded dumbly or said "ok" when asked: "Would you like fries with that?" that corporate types the world over sat up and deemed it Good.

It mutated slightly and crept stealthily into the world of electronics, appliances and cars. It's new disguise? The Extended Warranty.

One can no longer expect to spend dozens, let alone umpteen hundreds or thousands of dollars for an item and expect it to last longer than a year or so. I mean, it might but do you really want to take that chance? Wouldn't it be better to spend an extra 25 bucks on that $89 portable CD player and have the Peace Of Mind that only a 3 year extended warranty can offer?

Sure, that fridge could possibly work for longer than 2 years but do you want to chance it? For a mere $129.95 you can sleep easy for 5 years. Most likely that new car won't disintegrate 12 months and one day after you buy it but darn it, it HAS happened to some poor luckless folks. For a pittance, a fraction of the selling price, for $349 we might (don't bother checking the fine print - it's standard) fix it for free for 3 whole years if it does decide to disintegrate.

Bassets. The lot of them.

But it works and like a fungus it continues to spread.

Approximately 1/3 of the phone calls to my house now are from empathic representatives of my gas company, electricity supplier, or credit card holders. They want to help me. They worry about me. They've been tossing and turning for months, unable to sleep because I might, God Forbid, become disabled and be unable to pay their bills.

It's not just the money. Heck no. They could just cut off my gas or power or let that credit card bill's interest mount alarmingly. They'd still get by somehow. No, they're worried that I'll worry about not being able to pay. They want to spare me the sleepless nights they've been enduring on my behalf.

All it would take is a few measly dollars a month tacked onto my bills for disability insurance.

Then I could happily become a paraplegic.

It hasn't stopped there of course.

I go to my self-serve gas station. I carefully squirt a few tablespoons of gas and take my $10 into the kiosk to pay the Bored Kid. The Bored Kid, in his flat, Martha Stewart-ish monotone asks if I need "anyoiltoday."

I am in a variety store. I have the newspaper in my hand that I went there to purchase. The gum-chewing, pimply girl with the too-high hair asks if I have a ticket to this week's lottery.

I am in a dollar store. I love dollar stores. You can buy duct tape and birthday cards and things you don't really need but might some day so you might as well pick up a couple.

A young woman works at this dollar store. She has the highest-pitched voice I have ever heard. No crystal is safe in her presence. No bats will ever roost in her attic.

That's not all.

She ends every sentence with a rising inflection as if she's asking a question. When the Irish do it, it's darned charming. When she does it I'd rather listen to a symphony of chalkboard fingernail-scratchers. When she does actually ask a question - well, it's just excruciating.

It takes enormous courage for me to approach her till with my duct tape, kaleidoscope and plastic magnifying glass. I see at a glance that today she has a pile of unsold Easter eggs beside her. It is July. I steel myself.

"Hello sIR? How are you todaY? It's a lovely dAY? Did you find everything you were looking for todAY? Would you like a few Easter eggs at 1/2 off today sIR?"

It's difficult, but I smile and give her my answer. It's the same answer I now give the electronics guy and the Bored Kid and the gas company and the credit card caller and the pimply girl with the too-high hair.

It's an inspired answer because of its circular synchronicity that traces itself back to the roots of this whole issue.

It's the answer I hope that you will borrow and use to try to put an end to this groundswell of greed.

"No thank you. But could I have some fries with that?"