Message and data rates might apply.

10:03: (Ping) Welcome to our store. Please take this brief survey about the sidewalk outside our entrance.

10:03:02 (Ping) On a scale of 1-47, how easy was it to push the revolving door? Please skip to question 38 if you ignored our instructions and used the regular door instead.

10:03:19 (Ping) How is your shopping experience so far? Please take our brief survey to let us know how we’re doing.

10:03:48 (Ping) You haven’t taken our brief survey yet. Please take our brief survey to let us know why you haven’t taken our brief survey.

10:04:07 (Ping) We notice you haven’t purchased any items yet. Please take this brief survey about our product selection.

10:04:26 (Ping) To make your shopping experience even better, we have sent Edward to help you find exactly the right products for you.

10:04:47 (Ping) Please take this brief survey about Edward’s service level. Please note that your failure to take the survey or any rankings below 100% will lead to his immediate termination.

10:05:00 (Ping) Time’s up. We have fired Edward and replaced him with Sally, your supremely sophisticated and personalized shopping bot. Sally has reviewed all your internet searches for the past nine years and is ready to meet all your needs. Please rate her service level from 84-302.

10:06:00 (Ping) Your shopping car is still empty. Is there some problem you wish to report?

10:08:38 (Ping) In order to serve you better, we have promoted Sally to store manager. Your new shopping bot is Pat. Please take this brief survey about Pat’s fashion sense.

10:09:24 (Ping) After reviewing your internet searches for the past nine years, Pat felt extremely triggered and has asked that you be assigned to another, more sexually-experienced bot. Lucretia has joined the chat. 

10:11:18 (Ping) Your shopping cart is still empty. We have deactivated Lucretia and assigned Lorenzo, our private-shopper bot, to serve your (apparently) very special needs. Please take our brief survey about Lorenzo’s socks.

10:12:39 (Ping) Your shopping cart is still empty. Please take our brief survey to let us know why you think you’re too good for us.

10:13:00 (Ping) Your shopping cart is still empty, so our infallible algorithm has concluded you are a dangerous shoplifter. Please prepare to be searched and manhandled.

10:16:52 (Ping) Please take our brief survey about your Tasering experience.Click here for up to 197% off on your next Taser purchase.

10:18:01 (Ping) Please take our brief survey about any sexual pleasure you might have received from your strip search.

10:18:25 (Ping) Thank you for your patronage. Please take this brief survey about your shopping experience with us today.

10:18:31 (Ping) Thank you for your patronage. Please take this brief survey about the quality of our brief surveys. 

10:18:42 (Ping) Sign up here to join our preferred shoppers club and earn extra points every time you visit our store.


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Every so often, I think I should get out more, but the world outside my apartment just gets stranger and stranger…

• Checkout challenge. It’s a war of willpower between the grocery store and me. I’m fighting to keep people employed, so I refuse self-checkout and wait for a cashier. America’s grocers refuse to add more cashiers and they’re counting on me to give up and bag my own damned groceries. I know they’ll win this war, eventually, but I’m not giving up without a fight. Meanwhile, based on their attitudes, I don’t think the cashiers care as much about their jobs as I do.
  
• Musical maladies. We need more songs about Halloween and Veterans Day and Thanksgiving, and we need them now, because the store I was in was playing non-stop Christmas music during the first week of November and it’s already getting old. 
• Rhyme times. In case anyone thinks it’s difficult to write songs about holidays other than Christmas, allow me to disabuse that notion. Consider, for example, “Candy pickers want full-size Snickers,” “Nuttin’s better’n American Veterans,” or “Three extra helpings of turkey and sides are no big deal with Semaglutides.” This stuff writes itself.
• Cheer worm. Meanwhile, there's one Christmas song that I really, really hate and it's now my biggest ear worm. Every damned morning, I catch myself singing this thing and grimacing at rhymes that are worse than "asking Santa for extra Mylanta." So, what's your 100% least favorite Christmas song? 
  
• False fronts. Wandering through CVS, all kinds of stuff is behind locked, plastic windows, probably to protect against roving gangs of thieves that would grab things…after breaking the windows. Apparently, toothpaste is a hot item, but toothbrushes are not. Go figure.
• Come again? The manager at the local Starbucks is slouched in the back of the dining area, eating a sandwich, as he yells a greeting to everyone who walks in and invites them to come again as they leave. I haven’t figured out yet if he is being incredibly diligent or exceedingly lazy. I’d make a Schrodinger analogy here, but I’ve used up my allotment for 2025.
  
• Cow down. The guy next to me at breakfast ordered a glass of milk with his meal and it really surprised me. I can’t remember the last time I saw anyone order a glass of milk without a sippy cup and a straw. Is this some online challenge I haven’t heard about yet?
• It’s a match. Of course, a grown man ordering a glass of milk isn’t nearly as mysterious to me as guys who wear shorts with a sport jacket and t-shirt. Unless you’re a British officer subjugating India, shorts and jackets are never a match. (Too soon?)

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People were so excited to read about my investment in a roll of stamps last week that they’ve been calling nonstop to find out if I have any more positive news to share. So many folks are hungry for something upbeat to give them hope for the future, and I’d be churlish indeed if I failed to deliver the optimism they need.

If it’s good news you crave, you’ve come to the right site, because we have plenty. Forget all the doom and gloom and drama and skibidis as you six-seven your way to the bright side of life, including:

• The job market is about to explode, in a good way, now that nobody is getting vaccinated anymore. Giving someone a quick jab requires almost no labor time at all, but hospital patients need all kinds of help 24/7, especially in the ICU, and that translates into jobs, jobs, and jobs.
  
• We’re finally getting our dream of eliminating lobbyists and their influence in Congress. Not only has Congress stopped Congressing in the first place, business leaders are finding it much cheaper and faster to simply order the $10 million surf-and-turf special at Mar a Lago. Maybe all those lobbyists can find hospital jobs now that their services are no longer required on K Street.
• In even better news for business leaders, tariff whiplash is making strategic plans even more useless than ever. CEOs everywhere are suddenly at home with their families, spending all that quality time they like to talk about, and they don’t need to get fired to make it all possible.
• The Fed is finally lowering interest rates, which is great news for all those savers who hated paying taxes on their interest income. Lower rates equal lower taxes and savers everywhere will be celebrating their escape from those high tax brackets.
• Microplastics in our foods are having a substantially positive impact on health as they’re absorbed in our arteries and replace the need for stents. Even better, the Teflon “stents” are so slick, choking deaths are about to drop to zero.
• Now that we’re encouraging global warming, demand for road salt is cratering faster than an over-salted highway and fresh water supplies are safer than ever. And winter heating bills? Almost down to zero.
• There’s even good news on the Karen front, as video vigilantes pressure companies to dump anyone who offends them and new jobs open up in almost every field. From HR exec to CEO to “comedian,” new opportunities are popping up everywhere.
  
• And let’s not forget the wonders of shrinkflation, which is doing more than Ozempic to end the obesity epidemic. Now that restaurants serve “lunch portions” at dinner and snack food containers slide from liters back to quarts, we can finally fit back into our skinny jeans.
  

 
Seriously, folks, it cannot get any better than this. I’d wish you all a nice day, but I know you’re already having the time of your lives with all the good news coming your way.
 
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Just call me Mr. Optimist, or maybe Mr. Confident, potentially the most confident and optimistic human being in this or any world. It’s almost impossible to convey the faith in the future I have displayed through my most recent investment.

I bought a roll of stamps.

Can you feel the joy?? I am now the proud owner of 100 self-adhesive symbols of my Panglossian worldview, a view that includes both my own longevity and the future of humanity. Also, the future of the U.S. Postal Service, which continues to deliver my most important communications six days a week.

Yes, I said important communications, and I’m sticking to that story. Every morning, I open up my email inbox and it’s overloaded with crap. Before my fifth cup of coffee has kicked in, I’m inundated with offers for walk-in bathtubs, urgent pleas from fundraisers, dire warnings from political newsletters, and financial/medical/sexual offers that are just too good to be true. (Really, don’t ask me how I know, but it turns out they’re all just too good to be true.)

Frankly, the assault on my common sense can be demoralizing. But the afternoon brings a burst of sunshine as Corey delivers the printed matter that matters. There are glossy catalogs with pictures of furniture I can’t afford, clothes I’d never fit into, and red-light-camera summonses I’ll probably need to pay. (FTR, those red-light-camera fines are totally unjustified and fake and AI scams, so paying them is not an admission of guilt and State Farm should ignore them on my next renewal.)

It all gives me hope that, someday, I’ll be able to buy one of those 12-foot couches with reclining backs, massagers, and lighted cupholders. And I know all the offers are real, because someone paid big bucks to print and send them to me. None of my online scam artists think I’m worth the money, but at least Best Buy knows I have real potential.

Now, with my glossy new roll of stamps, I can return the favor and give the USPS the funds they need to keep delivering through gloom of night. It’s the least I can do, and it’s absolutely necessary. I can pay my property-tax bill online with a credit card, while paying added fees for the “convenience” of doing so, but there’s no fee involved if I just drop a check in the mail and let the county deal with the paperwork.

It’s a perverse reality that so many creditors charge more for the processes that cost them the least, while I pay less than a buck no matter how large the bill is, but I don’t make the rules. Meanwhile, I’m supporting the economy by keeping people employed as they open my envelopes, sort the paperwork, and process my payment.

With my glorious new roll of stamps, I’m set to continue supporting the postal workforce for at least the next six years. It’s so exciting that I’m giving serious thought to the next leap of ecstasy on my optimistic journey.

I’m actually thinking of buying a new box of checks.

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A costume isn't always a costume and doctors are never satisfied, or at least that's the zeitgeist for this week:

• My server was wearing all black, monster ears, and some kind of bat-like tiara, so I thought about complimenting her on her Halloween costume. Then I realized this might just be how she expresses herself all the time, so I’ll wait and see if she’s dressed the same way in November.
  
• Can we stop pretending that “customer service” bots are a way to reduce costs? The bots merely transfer costs from the provider to the customer, who needs to spend added time listening to prerecorded blather and yell “agent” 20 times until the bot gets the message. Getting rid of the human beings who answer the phone adds to the total cost of every business relationship and damages those relationships along the way.
• I haven’t listened to any new music for about 30 years now, which is making me worse and worse at both Jeopardy and the NYTimes crossword, but that’s the only place it makes any difference. Whenever I’m in an elevator or a grocery store or a doctor’s waiting room, I still feel au courant. It’s really the only time the world gives me a fist bump, but I’ll take it.
• Money’s been tight lately, but I’ve figured out how to keep seeing great shows at local theaters. I just sneak in as everyone is coming back from intermission and nobody checks for tickets before the second act. It’s working like a dream, but could someone explain to me what that Hamlet guy was so upset about?
• I’ve never had a doctor who thinks I’m doing okay with my routines. I say I’m eating fish twice a week and they tell me to make it three. I say I’m getting eight hours of sleep and they tell me to shoot for nine. Last week, I told my doctor I was exercising seven days a week and he told me to make it eight. To tell the truth, I don’t think they’re really listening.
  
• I was walking past the park the other night and I was jolted by the metallic sound of swings hinging back and forth. That’s the sound of nostalgia, now that the grandkids are too old for me to push them, and it recalled one more chapter that’s already closed. As if I needed a reminder: Don’t blink.
• We hardly need to remind you that today is the 100th anniversary of everything that happened on this date 100 years ago today. Be sure to honor the people who gave/did/fought/ran/overindulged on this day by observing it respectfully/happily/solemnly. And don’t forget, tomorrow it will happen again.
• The woman sitting next to me on the plane recommended a restaurant called Las Salivas, which seemed like an odd name to me, but what do I know? Maybe the food’s so good it makes you drool or something. Turns out, she was talking about Los Olivos and I should be sure to ask people to spell things in the future.

 
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After we explained everything our readers need to know about the economy last month, we’ve been inundated with new questions about where we’re headed, especially when it comes to jobs. No surprise there, since everyone who tracks this stuff is reporting a decline in the job market that resembles Wile E. Coyote’s path after he finally looks down.

It’s gotten so bad that even the fake job sites have given up. In July, our inbox was overflowing with “offers” of incredible, high-paying positions. Now, the scammers know nobody is going to believe there are jobs available, so they’ve moved on to GOLD GOLD GOLD GOLD.

So, what’s the straight-skinny, upfront lowdown on the job market today? Glad you asked:

How will I know if my job might be in jeopardy?

You should be just a bit concerned if your job involves customer service, computers, speaking, writing, or, worst of all, journalism. If your job involves putting coffee into a paper cup, driving a bachelorette-party bus, or delivering pizza on a bicycle, you’re safe, at least for now.

My boss says my job is safe. Should I believe her?

How old are you? Really, the answer to that question is always NO. And not just NO. Emphatic NO. Even as you read these words, your boss is working feverishly to downsize your department and hand over your duties to a chatbot. She’s under pressure to keep her job, so canning you seems like a good idea. Of course, she hasn’t figured out that no managers are needed to oversee a chatbot, but that’s her problem and you’ll be long gone when she gets whacked.

Will there be any warning signs that cutbacks are imminent?

Yes, so it’s important to be pay attention to the subtle clues. For instance, if your HR department comes up with new team-building exercises that involve bungee jumping, escape rooms, or trust falls, be very afraid. If the company announces that this year’s Christmas party will be held at Nakatomi Plaza, that’s a red flag, too. And be especially concerned if you’re told to meet your team in a Home Depot parking lot.

Home Depot parking lot? But I’m a citizen.

How old are you? You don’t have to get deported. You’ll only be held for a few days until they let you go, but you’ll have been fired for unexcused absences by then. The CEO can say there have been no layoffs, and there’s no unemployment compensation when you’re fired for cause. Win-win, just not for you.

Maybe I should look for a new job that’s more secure.

That’s an excellent idea, although it’s hard to find great jobs at solid companies. Putting coffee into a paper cup, driving a bachelorette-party bus, and delivering pizza on a bicycle don’t pay very well, so you’ll want to look for a position with better pay and benefits. Just be sure to find a company that doesn’t import or export, has no government contracts, isn’t involved in higher education, and has no AI initiatives in place. Or planned.

You’re not sounding very optimistic about this.

Not true. In fact, this is actually the upside view. You don’t want to know what the pessimistic take is here.

Yikes. Is there any hope at all?

Absolutely. Now that we finally have loyalists generating the country’s job numbers, we can rest assured that employment is going to soar to the greatest, most powerful, incredible levels ever in history, or even beyond history, or more than that. Of course, it goes without saying that your results may vary.

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