Sunday, August 16, 2009

A Totally Incomprehensible Heineken Ad

Two guys are being lead to their seats in the nosebleed section of an basketball arena. Just before they can sit down, some dope jumps up and knocks the tray of beers out of one guy's hand, drenching their seats. "No problem" says the guy to the usher. "Don't sweat it."

The usher is enormously impressed with the coolness of these two guys, who are apparently about to take their seats without even asking him to, I don't know, towel off the massive puddle of beer that now occupies them. (There's no word from the guy who knocked the beers over, either- apparently he's gone right back to watching the game, without so much as a "pardon me," let alone an offer to replace the beers.) How impressed IS the usher? Enough to mutter "you know what? Follow me" and lead the guys to seats right on the court.

Before we move on, let's analyze this sequence of events thus far. Guys get their beer spilled, and don't make a fuss over it. Their reward is to be taken from the cheap seats to the floor level- and handed seats that are reserved for VIPs like Jack Nicholson and which retail for thousands of dollars. Because they are cool with getting their beer spilled. Riiiiiiiiiiggght.

Tag line- "Enjoy the Upgrade."

Then we get the commercial's Happy Conclusion- a leggy beer girl offers the guys bottles of Heineken Light. They sure look like glass bottles. Glass bottles on the floor of an NBA game- oh sure, I can't see any danger inherent in that. Not at all. Why not offer the guys spiked shields to hold in front of them during the action, too?

And finally- Eva Longoria asks them to hand her a bottle of Heineken. So, the leggy beer girl is just standing there after the guys got their beers? The leggy beer girl isn't willing to walk over to Eva Longoria to offer her a beer?

Well, whatever. Let's never mind the choad who spills the beer and doesn't offer word one of apology. Let's ignore the leggy beer girl with the glass bottles. Let's instead focus on the utterly logic-bending idea that an USHER at an NBA GAME has the authority to hand two dopes in the nosebleed section two seats reserved for CEOs, Oscar nominees, or stars of the music industry. I'm so sure that this happens in real life without serious money being exchanged. I'm so sure that ushers are always handing these seats to nameless working-class stiffs on a whim. Jesus, at least show us one of these guys sticking a few hundred-dollar bills into the usher's jacket pocket before he leaves. I mean, come on, Heineken.

At least give us a sequel, where Spike Lee shows up and wants to know why these two white guys are sitting in his seats.

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