I’d been lucky to escape Dean’s and Hazel’s long-lasting, miserable virus until today. Now I too am miserable. But I braved the cold and the icy roads to make a run to the corner drugstore for needed supplies. As a mature mother of five, I know I shouldn’t feel embarrassed about buying a bunch of feminine sanitary products, but I was still rather wishing I could be invisible as I approached the lone register with its solitary male employee. Just then I glanced up and saw a sign with the store’s slogan: “With us, it’s personal.”
This did not make me feel better.
It’s a lousy slogan no matter what you’re selling, unless you are a mafia don. Better would be, “Don’t worry! At Rite-Aid, we’ll avoid eye contact.”