Showing posts with label Slavery as advertising. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Slavery as advertising. Show all posts

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Subtlety isn't their strength

At around 3 o'clock everyday at work a small group of us will get together (it usually commences with one of us yelling "What's up with my drink, bitches!") and send one guy (almost always John) off to the store to get us all a refreshing beverage. It's one of those little things that people do to break up the day and push back the feelings of being not at all gruntled (it's a word now, deal with it). We usually argue, in a good spirited way, over who should pay, who paid the last time, who skipped their turn and so on. It's all part of the process y'see. Anyway the drink of choice for us is Arizona teas. It's not any kind of brand loyalty so much as it is that they're big and cheap.

One day John comes back and hands me a can and says that they were out of my usual and this was all they had. It was the Arizona Southern Style. It didn't really matter to me so no big deal. I take a few swigs and, finding it better than my usual, I take a closer look.

Have you ever had one of those moments when you look at something and think, "What the hell?" so you look again because obviously you're mistaken but no it really is what you thought? Exactly.

On the label of the Southern Style tea there is a picture of a plantation. There is a blonde white woman in front of the house and another white woman on the porch. Standing next to the porch woman? A SLAVE! That's right, in order to get that distinctive southern feel they went with the plantation house slave theme. I called one of the guys over and told him what I was seeing and he looked and his reaction was, "No fucking way." and snatched it from me to show everyone else. I was angry lemme tell ya. Mostly about having my drink snatched away but y'know, righteous anger is righteous anger, right?

Check it:





OK, I realize that this might be a little hard to see so I ask only that you go to a store and look for yourself and then do that head shake with a disbelieving chuckle thing that everyone else does before you look again and do the Oh. My. God. thing.

I gotta get Al Sharpton's number...