TheBanyanTree: Learning About Life At Jamba Juice

[Monique]

I have a slight addiction to Jamba Juice. As addictions go, it's
relatively harmless. Jamba Juice is good for me, after all, a better
alternative to my usual habit of Pepsi, Pepsi, Pepsi . . . 
 
If you don't know what Jamba Juice is, don't worry. That's not relevant.
What's more important is what I've learned about human behavior from my
visits to Jamba Juice. I've been able to study human behavior in depth,
as I've waited in line behind people who can't decide between two
slightly different smoothies to save their lives. These people should
not go to the cashier to order UNTIL they've made a decision, but they
persist in doing so anyway.
 
One day I was behind a man and his young daughter, along with four or
five other people. We were waiting patiently. Jamba Juice customers are
notoriously polite and well mannered. Admittedly, I have no children.
That's obvious from the way I can tell parents how to rear theirs with
such authority and such conviction. Want to know what you're doing wrong
with your children? Just ask me. 
 
Anyway, a young child should not yet be subjected to the rigors of
deciding between 20 or 30 different flavors, many of which are similar
by virtue of having the same fruit in them. A young child, when faced
with this daunting task, will look up at the board listing every
imaginable combination and then . . . nothing. Razzmatazz or Berry Lime
Sublime? Cranberry Craze or Berry Fulfilling? And what's in them? (Do we
have time, when standing in line, to look at each list of ingredients?
Of course we do, if we're speed readers.)
 
No, the proper approach when dealing with a young child is to ask the
young child, "Do you want a Strawberry Delight or a Pineapple Buzz?"
Give two choices. And two choices that are different enough so the child
CAN decide. Don't say, "Do you want the Berry Burst or the Berry Fizz?"
The poor kid'll be pondering what the difference is with such intensity
that no decision will ever be made. 
 
A multitude of choices. We are faced with so many choices every minute
of every day that we've lost the ability to quickly make a decision.
 
It's a smoothie. That's all it is. We're not deciding on a college
major, buying a new car, or whether to get the dog neutered. 
 
Then there's the matter of the free boost. Included with each smoothie
is a free boost, in about six different choices. Energy. Protein.
Women's Formula (though no men's formula, which I perceive as a civil
rights issue, but since I'm not on THAT side, I'll let it slide. Men can
fight for themselves). Vitamin C. I don't know what all. I usually just
get energy, because I'm usually lacking in it. It's an easy choice -
there really isn't a WRONG choice. 
 
Yet picture the Jamba Juice cashier, standing patiently at the register,
while the person in front of them stares blankly at the prospect of a
free boost. The cashier lists the choices. The customer stammers and
says, "What's the energy one do?" "What's in the protein one?" "What do
you recommend?" (The cashiers have received, I'm sure, extensive
training in diagnosing what any particular customer needs at any given
time.) 
 
The father and his daughter eventually managed their purchase, though
I'm sure the child will never recover from the application of a Protein
boost in her innocuous drink when she should have had Immunity. 
 
On my next visit I found myself behind two women with children in
strollers. New customers again, obviously, as they perused the menu
board repeatedly (sometimes I wonder if people are reading it, or just
hoping an answer will pop into their heads), asking each other what the
other was going to have because, heavens, we must have a concensus on
our choice, just in case it turns out to be the wrong choice, because
then we won't have to shoulder all the blame ourselves . . . 
 
Once the decision was made, the real problems began. A free boost? One
woman thought she should consult her doctor before choosing one. After
all, no telling what a few extra vitamins might do to one's system.
Luckily she had a cell phone. She called her doctor, got him on the
line, and asked, "Should I get an energy or a protein boost? Or one for
women? Or immunity?" The doctor responded by hanging up on her, leaving
her with the momentous decision while the line continued to grow behind
her and the rabble grew impatient.
 
So I made that part up, except for the impatient rabble part. Do you
know anyone who can call their doctor and get them on the phone right
away? 
 
Instead, rather than risk serious injury to her health, she opted for no
boost until she could check with her doctor. Good choice. Before I go to
the supermarket, I always check in with my doctor to see what food
groups I should be concentrating on. 
 
People, people, people, it's a smoothie with a few vitamins thrown in.
We're not deciding if we should keep our colon, or have it removed, or
whether we should engage in high risk sexual behavior, or if we should
not wear our seat belts when driving two blocks away. We're not deciding
who to vote for, where to vacation, what school to send our child to . .
. we have enough of those kinds of choices to make. We're deciding on a
drink that will be gone in short order. Just pick one and go with it.
The worst case scenario: there might have been one you'd like even more.
We certainly don't want to experience that, do we? 
 
I think I'm going to go get a Jamba Juice today. Original Aloha
Pineapple, with an energy boost. Or maybe an Original Berry Buzz with
protein. Maybe a Blueberry Bluebill, with immunity. Or maybe I'll just
ask the cashier what would be best for a person suffering from my
particular symptoms today. It's just a drink, people, and hopefully one
of the more innocuous choices you need to make today.