The box of cereal hasn't changed price, but it's now as thin as a piece of cardboard stock and contains roughly four bowls of flakes. The bag of chips is 70% nitrogen gas. The ice cream tub went from 64 oz to 56 oz to 48 oz. They think if they shrink the package gradually we won't notice. We notice!
I spent an entire Saturday obsessively soaking carboys, airlocks, auto-siphons, and tubing in Star San. I scrubbed like a surgeon preparing for open-heart surgery. Three weeks later, I open the bucket and there's a wild yeast pellicle floating on top. How?! Did a single microbe parachute in while I took a breath?
I walked up to a counter, grabbed a pre-packaged bottle of water from a cooler myself, handed it to the clerk who scanned it in two seconds, and the payment tablet flipped around asking for a 20%, 25%, or 30% tip. Tip for what? For allowing me to buy something in your store? The guilt-tripping UX design is getting insane. #Tipping
If I am paying $28 for an entree and a 20% auto-gratuity, do not hand me a lamination with a pixelated QR code and tell me to browse a broken mobile website on 1 bar of cellular reception. Give me a physical menu. I sit at a screen all day; I don't want to debug a PDF menu just to order tacos.
I don't like squash. Don't put it in my risotto dish.