The Gripe Report: Mattress Company Names, Stilt-Walkers, Grocery Store Charity Shaming

Hey, hey! It’s time for an all-new edition of The Gripe Report, and with Festivus just around the corner, this is a good time to get in some reps before the Airing of Grievances.

So, a quick peek behind the curtain: I’m a big Notes app guy. I keep some article ideas in there, I’ve got ideas for TV shows, movies, and songs that will probably never see the light of day, and there may or may not be a boilerplate Notes app apology.

Y’know; should the need arise. God forbid

But I also keep a running list of gripes, and — would you believe? — it’s getting a little bloated.

Got Gripes? Send them in! mattreigleoutkick@gmail.com

So, we’ve got to pop open the release valve and let a little steam lose, so that’s what we’ll do this week.

Make sure to keep sending in your gripes, or feel free to bounce off of mine or any others that we’ve discussed lately.

Now, without further ado. It’s time to get some gripes off my conscience (read: Notes app).

There's a new trend in mattresses that involves companies taking on random names that have nothing to do with sleep, and I'm not a fan. (Getty Images)

Mattress Company Names

I was watching TV the other day, and normally I’m really good at tuning out commercials. Madison Avenue won’t want to hear that, but it’s true.

If there was a high school yearbook superlative for "Boy Most Likely To Tune Out Commercials," I would be in the top three (there were some other dudes at my high school who were pretty damn good at it too).

But one commercial recently slipped through my usually impenetrable commercial filter and stole my attention.

It was an ad for a mattress, but what struck me was the name of the company: Avocado.

This got me thinking, what the hell happened to mattress company names?!

So, I saw that ad for Avocado mattresses. Want to know what brand of mattress I have? It’s a Nectar (no free ads, but it’s a good mattress), and before that, I had a Casper. My pillow? Ironically, it’s not a MyPillow, it’s a Purple pillow.

But what is with the names? Did they just throw a dart at a dictionary and say, "Yes, that is our brand!"

Isn’t the whole point brand recognition? When I hear "avocado," I think guacamole.

When I hear "Nectar," I think of a sugary fluid secreted by plants.

When I hear "Casper," I think of the friendly ghost or the city in Wyoming, but, crucially, not sleep!

Sure, Serta and Temper-Pedic aren’t sleep names, but they’re not names that are already other words that have nothing to do with sleep!

I want more sleep-focused mattress names. Give me a Snooze-Inducer mattress or a Dream-O-Magic 5000. Something that will make me think, "Oh yeah, that’ll make for good sleepin’."

I blame the tech industry. Everyone’s trying to be the next Apple. News flash: you make mattresses.

Whoa! Look at how tall they are, but aren't really!. (Photo by Karol Serewis/SOPA Images/LightRocket via Getty Images)

Stilt-Walkers 

If you're a long-time Gripe Report reader — or even a newbie, I mention it quite a bit — you may be aware that I live in Orlando, Florida.

The City Beautiful. The Theme Park Capital Of The World.

But I think another claim to fame that this city might have that no one talks about is that I think there are more stilt-walkers per capita than anywhere else in the world.

I see stilt-walkers everywhere down here. They're a staple of every theme park, parades, and other places too, and every time I see them, I think to myself, "Who is impressed by this?"

I’m way less impressed by stilts than people hiring stiltwalkers think I am, considering how many I see clumsily walking around.

What is the point? Am I supposed to be impressed that some guy is tall, but actually he isn't tall, he's just standing on pieces of wood?

Am I supposed to be impressed by the act of stilt-walking? Because, with as many people as I see doing it, I have a theory that anyone can stilt-walk with a couple of weekends of training.

I'm not seeing crazy stilt-walking maneuvers. They're usually just standing around. They're stilt-standing.

I don't mean to toot my own horn (who am I kidding? I love nothing more than having more horn tooted!) I think I could stilt-stand after a few sessions of stilt training, and with a couple more, I could be stilt-walking.

Just out of frame is some dude sweating because he needs an excuse for why he can't round up to the nearest dollar to teach kids how to read or whatever. (Getty Images)

Grocery Store Charitable Donations

It's the holiday season, which means it's a time for giving… which also means that grocery stores are going to put you on the spot and ask for charitable donations.

Don't get me wrong, I like donating to charity, but I hate being hit up at the cash register.

First of all, we all know what's going to happen. The grocery store will pool that money, cut a check, and then reap the tax benefits without having to spend any (or at least not as much) of their own money.

It's also wildly embarrassing every time it happens. I swear, this only happens when I have a big grocery order. Like, if I go in for gum and iced tea, they don't say a peep about charity. But when I unload $150 on steaks and crab legs for Christmas Eve, suddenly it's Scrooge McDuck diving into a vault full of gold coins. 

That makes it look even worse when they ask "Do you want to donate to help kids learn to read or whatever?" and I say no.

The guilt-tripping is insane, and it was perfectly portrayed a while back in an episode of South Park. 

Sure, it's pumped up a little bit, but it's not too far off.

Whenever I encounter these situations, I usually say, "No, not today." I like to leave the door open a little bit and try to trick the retiree ringing up my salmon fillets and sack of almonds that perhaps next time, I will round up to the nearest dollar.

I swear, I feel their eyes roll as if to say, "Yeah, sure you will, Mr. Ruggedly Handsome."

No one likes this, and we're all on to the store's ruse.

Go out and donate to charity on your own time.

To this point, I'm also not a fan of kids posting up outside of the grocery store. I'm getting kind of tired of telling Cub Scout packs that I don't want to buy their popcorn while I have a giant box of Orville Redenbacher's Gourmet Popping Corn tucked under my arm.

I get that the trip to Six Flags isn't going to pay for itself, but c'mon, fellas, stop doing this to me.

…

That's all, folks, for this edition of The Gripe Report.

Come back next week for more, and in the meantime, send in your gripes!: mattreigleoutkick@gmail.com