How Phoenix takes advantage of wealthy Californians
Since I grew up in the midwest, and lived for about ten years in California, I have a pretty good idea of their respective points of view. The culture that I grew up in, in Minneapolis, was either wise and thrifty or so darned cheap that someone wouldn't read the newspaper because they didn't want to wear out their eyeglasses. In California, it's as opposite as you can get. To me, I saw it as a very wasteful world, where "conspicuous consumption" was the norm. Clipping coupons, and waiting for sales, was seen as positively egregious behavior, which could get you shunned by just about everyone who considered themselves a true Californian.
If you follow me here, when these people visit Phoenix their behavior shows. Midwesterners, like my parents, would get bargains, and my California friends would be seen, please excuse the expression, as suckers.
Many years ago I saw an extreme example happen when I visited one of my favorite restaurants here in Phoenix with my wealthy California friends who were in for the classic car shows. And don't picture them with tuxedos and top hats, they looked as scruffy as could be. And maybe that was a clue?
Anyway, the waiter must have identified them as Californias, and the inexpensive meal that I usually got turned into a massive bill filled with a la cart items, and extras that my friends were too polite to refuse. When it was all over the tab was ridiculously high, and while my California friends could well afford it, they resented being treated like suckers.
How exactly the waiter was able to identify them as spendthrift Californians I really have no idea. Maybe he had just learned over the years. Of course, when I've dined with my parents (from Minnesota) they would have coupons, and ask what the specials were, and would get excellent service at the best possible price. They would look carefully at the bill and catch if an entree had been listed twice, something that my California friends would never dream of - that would be gauche.
Speaking for myself, I can see both sides. I never really had enough money to be a spendthrift, but I know the California culture, and what is, and isn't, polite. But there's still enough of a midwesterner in me to applaud someone who is wise enough to use an app to get a discount, or at least know when happy hour is.
Image at the top of this post: The California Highway in 1920 (Buckeye Road)
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