Yes, the Internet is the most convenient consumer tool to come along since the shopping cart itself.
I can sit in the comfort of my own home, frolicking from site to site to magically fulfill all my shopping needs. Instead of Muzak droning all around me, I’ve got Billy Bragg warbling through my CD-ROM drive. And the promotions – 80 percent off here, three sweepstakes and free sunglasses there – are endless. This is a better experience than any consumer deserves.
Then again, no one at the mall ever asks me what my income level is before I buy pants or fill out a “Free Vacation in Paradise” entry form.
I recently tried to join the Miramax Cafe, which promised advance notice of upcoming films and a chance to win “more prizes than even a leisure-oriented person like yourself can handle.” But I had to tell them my income level, and I didn’t think movie news and a free T-shirt was worth that piece of information. I attempted to send some out-of-town presents via giftcertificates.com, but they wanted my home phone number (can’t an online company contact me through e-mail?), so I took a pass. I also gave a try to webstakes.com, but the amount of data it wants you to provide adds a much slower connotation to the phrase “instant-win.”
Yes, I want the benefits the Internet offers. But I don’t want to spend 10 minutes detailing my life history every time I log on.
To save future time and aggravation, I hereby present my demographic profile. Capture the data now, all you one-to-one marketers, because this is the last time I’m going to give it up.
NAME: Peter Gerard Breen
AGE: 34. I’m very content with my age, because I never wanted to be on The Real World, and because Logan’s Run was only a movie.
MARITAL STATUS: Married. Does this mean I only qualify for dull, joyless promotions?
EDUCATION: I need an “Other” option, because the diploma I have at home contradicts the fact that I can barely remember what linguistics means.
ADDRESS: 11 Riverbend Drive South. That’s right, send it to the office. I’m already causing the neighborhood mailman undue shoulder stress.
HOUSING: I own a home. Although most weekends it seems like the other way around.
OCCUPATION: Publishing executive. (It’s the only way I can qualify for trade magazines.)
CAR RENTAL: I’m an Avis preferred member, I think.
HOTEL: I’m a Hilton preferred guest, I think.
AIRLINE: I’m pretty sure I’m an American AAdvantage member.
CREDIT CARD: Visa or MasterCard, from whatever bank is offering a 2.9 percent introductory rate this quarter.
FAST FOOD: A girlfriend once asked me to choose between her and Arby’s. I wonder what she’s doing these days?
NEWSPAPERS: The Wall Street Journal at work, New York Daily News at home. I read front-to-back at work, back-to-front at home.
MAGAZINES: I always try to read cover to cover, so I’m up to date with Entertainment Weekly and just polished off The New Yorker’s November 11, 1998 issue.
TV FAVORITES: The Knicks, The Sopranos, Turner Movie Classics.
LEISURE ACTIVITIES: The Knicks, The Sopranos, Turner Movie Classics.
RADIO FAVORITES: In order: Button one, button three, button four, button two.
ATHLETIC SHOES: With my range of leisure activities, I’ve got a pair of original Air Jordans I could sell on eBay.
FAVORITE CAUSES: Why do the garbage collectors have to throw my cans? When are they going to plow my street?
BRAND PREFERENCES: There are some categories in which no substitutes are ever allowed: Heinz ketchup. Band-Aids. Scotch Tape. Dr Pepper. Ivory Soap. For all others, $1 off will turn me faster than picnic mayonnaise.
INCOME RANGE: Put me down as less than $15,000. I figure that’s low enough to keep me off most prospect lists.
The real figure is something I’m going to keep between me, my wife, my father (he asked, mom didn’t), the 14 people in corporate accounting, the 110 people at the payroll service, the wife of the guy at the payroll service who I went to school with and the three people she told, and my tax preparer.
After all, some personal information should remain private.
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