From the Department of Self-promotion comes this, my column in todays Hawk Eye, also known as my rightful revenge on the Jared jewelry stores ... He never went to Jared By JARED McNEILL jmcneill@thehawkeye I despise Jared The Galleria of Jewelry. But, like every year at this time, the company runs its usual set of commercials with most of them going something like this: Man buys an expensive piece of jewelry — usually a ring, necklace or bracelet. Man gives said piece of jewelry to a woman, who just melts. And then, the tagline, in some form, follows: “He went to Jared.” Well, this Jared never has and never will go to Jared. Just on principle. In fact, even if I lived next door to a Jared store and all I needed was a watch battery, I would drive hundreds, nay thousands of miles out of my way just to buy it elsewhere, so deep is my contempt for that business. Why? I’ve been engaged twice. And each time, because of those commercials, my fiancée has been asked that infernal question. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, it’s in my presence, and they say it with a smile on their face, like they’re oh-so-clever. They aren’t. “I’ll bet he went to Jared,” they’ll say, with a smirk and wink, like I’ve never heard that before. “Did he go to Jared?” A million times no. Never. And, if the past is any indication, Megan will hear that question over and over and over again. There won’t be a ring, earring, bracelet or necklace she wears that she won’t hear that annoying slogan. But, thankfully, my wife isn’t into jewelry. At least that’s what she says. Yes, I know, at some point I’m going to have to buy her a nice piece of jewelry because I will have done or said something extraordinarily stupid only jewelry can fix, plus there’s always assorted holidays, anniversaries and birthdays. But their commercials, pasted all over TV screens throughout the country, aren’t exactly convincing. “At Jared, I’m known as the perfectionist,” begins a saleswoman as she relates how she helped a guy with his engagement ring purchase. “Nice” and “beautiful” are just not good enough, she says. “It’s your engagement, but this is my vow ...,” she goes on as she details the myriad options the store offers to overwhelmed men, who, if they are anywhere near normal, just want to get in and get out without dropping three mortgage payments. Queue the woman, clasping her hands to her face, then to her chest, as she breathily whispers, “Yes.” Of course, perfect is the only option, so “that’s why” — you guessed it — “he went to Jared.” Another takes place in a sports bar with a guy holding up a pink, bedazzled jersey made especially for his significant other, thinking she’d love it. His friends can’t believe he would buy such a gaudy gift for his wife or girlfriend, so they tell him: “Four words: He went to Jared.” Picture any sports bar you’ve been to. Football games on TVs everywhere you look. Buckets of beer on tables. Plates of discarded hot wings. And, of course, guys talking about jewelry stores. But, here’s the thing, I guarantee you will see at least one of these commercials this weekend, and, as we get closer to Christmas, they’ll show up with ever-increasing frequency. And, as much as you see them, you’d think there was a store close by. Nope. The closest stores, according to the company’s website, are in West Des Moines and the suburbs of St. Louis. None in Burlington. None in Iowa City, Cedar Rapids or even the Quad Cities. So, at least I don’t have to see the actual stores — that is, until recently. Less than a month ago, my wife and I took a quick weekend trip to the Des Moines area to celebrate our first anniversary. In looking for a parking spot at Jordan Creek Town Center, we drove by the mall’s giant Jared store. Of course. My irritation was palpable. Audible even. Megan, knowing why, just laughed. We walked by the store several times that weekend, but we never went in. But part of me wanted to. At least once in my life, I want to stomp into one of those stores, if for no other reason than to tell them, “Knock it off!” “Do you know what you’re doing to me?” I would yell at them. Perhaps they would sympathize with me because they’ve heard it from many exasperated Jareds before. Perhaps, out of the goodness of their hearts, they would stop with the barrage of ads. Yeah, I know, probably not. More than likely, I would be escorted out of the store, and they would have this story about this crazy Jared visiting a Jared store, and they could say, “He went to Jared.” So, no, I’m not going to give them that satisfaction. Sadly, they’ll probably be around long after I’m dead and buried, at which point my tombstone will say, “He never went to Jared.”
Posted on: Fri, 12 Dec 2014 18:39:24 +0000
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