#14 Enlarged to Show Disclaimers

So I’m staring at my Dorito bag the other day. Salsa Verde flavor in case you’re interested, and I’m looking at the picture of the chips on it. They look pretty good. So I’m crunching away enjoying Frito Lays' greatest artificial taste sensation and I notice the writing underneath the picture of the chips and it says “Enlarged to show texture.” Duh, Like I really expected the chips I was about to eat to be six inches tall.
Then I thought. No. Did somebody actually sue somebody cause they had their lives ruined and their dreams shattered by the actual two-inch size of a Dorito? Was their expectation of future income totally upset because they were plunged into a prolonged, untreatable and debilitating depression that left them disabled and downright destroyed? Is this what America has come to? Disclaimers on Doritos? Or is Frito-Lay just not taking any chances?
Now I’m not one of those people who think trial lawyers should be wiped off this earth. The next time a doctor accidentally cuts off one of my appendages I’m going right to my nearest legal beagle and hire him to gnaw that careless sucker to the financial bone. But I do think it’s a little crazy to sue a snack food for putting a large picture of their product on its packaging for gosh sake. I mean, let’s use some common sense here. When I see a billboard with a two-story Tic Tac on it, I’m pretty sure when I buy the actual product I won’t need a crane to lift it into my mouth.
The same with Hamburger Helper and Campbell’s Soups and other prepared products. I really don’t need you to tell me the picture on the can or box is a “serving suggestion.” I’m old enough to know that you don’t open up a can and out pops a three-course meal with silverware, napkin, and fresh-cut flower in a vase. I’m just expecting the soup. I’ll provide the bowl, without the help of a law suit thank you very much.
I actually saw a newspaper ad the other day for roast beef some supermarket had on sale. There was a lovely picture of a dripping roast, savory brown on the outside and red and succulent in the middle. A few roasted potatoes were arranged around its edges. There was a sprig of parsley or two and a small salad in a bowl. I believe there was a little cornucopia in the distance with an onion and a variety of seasonal squashes and some provocatively semi-shucked ears of corn. The copy said “Beef Sirloin Roast, X.99 a pound.” And underneath the picture the now ubiquitous “serving suggestion.”
You mean I don’t get the squash? I’m crushed. I’ve lost all faith in mankind. I’ll never be able to shop in an untrustworthy supermarket again. ...Call my lawyer!
America, ya gotta love it.