My Gift To You

Undoubtedly, the kind souls at White Castle were just trying to make my holiday shopping -- and thus my life -- easier.

“Card Your Friends,” read the bag they handed me at the Drive-Thru.  “Get them ready for the next Big Crave with this little card.  Introducing the White Castle Gift Card.”

While I was surprised by my sober craving for White Castle, I should not have been surprised by the burgermaker’s venture into this new terrain; after all, many years ago their pioneering spirit made them the first fast-food outfit to offer their own line of breath mints.

But while White Castle breath mints were obviously designed to combat White Castle breath, toward what end was the White Castle Gift Card conceived?  Surely nobody would actually consider five dollars in credit at White Castle a gift, would they?

I considered briefly to whom, and in what situations, I might give a White Castle Gift Card as a gift.  I could imagine giving one to my friend Steve, with whom I shared several late-night White Castle runs, as a joke.  I can envision adding one to the white-elephant gift exchange at the office holiday party, also for comedic effect.  But as an actual gift, for someone to whom I give actual gifts?  No, not exactly.

However, surveying the economic horizon, I can see why White Castle feels the need to sell such a gift card, for in this case they are not trend setters, but merely lemmings -- nowadays, everybody’s hawking gift cards.

Last week an email from Qdoba urged me to give my friends a Q-Cash gift card.  I filled my gas tank at the BP the other day, and a sign at the pump encouraged me to buy BP gift cards.  In the last few days alone, I’ve been enticed to buy gift cards at a Bob Evans in Ohio and a Runza in Nebraska.

But why?

The Borders gift card, the Best Buy gift card, even the Bed Bath and Beyond gift card; these I understand.  When I am given one of these cards, I am tempted to treat myself to a book, or a CD, or a variable-speed vibrating foot massager that I might not otherwise have bought for myself.  And, if not tempted by any of these, I can use the card to buy a gift for someone else -- perhaps even the gift-card giver.

But a gift card to BP?  To White Castle?  To Bob Evans?  The very existence of these cards begs the question:

What’s wrong with cash?

If your list includes a Bob Evans devotee who’s committed the menu to memory, or a cousin whose idea of cuisine constitutes whatever can be consumed at the Waffle House, then by all means, give the Bob Evans gift card.

But I think I can say confidently that the rest of us would rather you did your holiday shopping at the bank.

Now, admittedly, one of cash’s drawbacks is that, once given, it leaves no reminder of you as the giver; it just sits there in the recipient’s wallet, indistinguishable from the rest of the cash.

A Bob Evans gift card, however, stands out in the recipient’s wallet, a constant symbol of your generosity distinct from the bland Alexander Hamiltons and Andrew Jacksons that reminds the recipient of you and your gift every time it’s viewed.   It also invokes the taking of your name in vain, as in, “Great, here’s that friggin’ Bob Evans gift card my Uncle Lucifer gave me.  I sure as hell wish I just had the cash right about now.”

I know it’s the thought that counts.  But do you really want people wondering, “What were they thinking?"

Simply put, there are some things you should just buy for yourself.  If you’re inspired to get me a gift certificate to a fancy restaurant I might not otherwise patronize, great.  But a gift card to White Castle?  Or Bob Evans?  That’s about as fun as giving me a credit on my next electric bill.

Perhaps I’m just fighting progress, for it’s clear gift cards are part of a larger cultural shift in the definition of “gift.”  In the last week alone, I’ve been told that Economy Plus Access on United Airlines, a year of AAA membership, and Pennsylvania Lottery tickets would all make great holiday gifts.

In other words, if it can be bought with money, you can now consider giving it as a gift.  Indeed, I expect to be told that electric-bill credit can in fact be “gifted” any day now.

If there’s an upside to these lowered gift-giving standards, it’s this:  even though we’re just two days out from Christmas -- and, in a calendar quirk that should be taken as a cosmic sign that we should all just get along, the first night of Hanukkah -- you don’t have to brave the malls to do your holiday shopping.  You just have to brave the Drive-Thru at White Castle.

The other upside is, if everybody just gives gift cards for Christmas, you won’t need a very big tree.