Coffee Time Stories

by Gareth Davies

  8 The First Meme - Confessions of Capitalist

  I used to work in the marketing department of a large lock-making firm. Many years ago our biggest sellers were padlocks, everyone was scared of theft and so we managed to convince them that a good meaty padlock was a good deterrent. But then sales started to slump, people were finding other ways to protect their property, door locks were safer, bike riders were preferring the D locks, while suitcase began to have built in locks. There was still a market for the good old-fashioned padlock but it was shrinking at such a rate that it was becoming unprofitable to make them. That’s when I had the idea and if I say so myself it was genius.

  My Polish friend told me about a bridge of love in Wroclaw, a bridge where it was traditional for men to propose and women to say yes. It gave me the idea; what better way I thought that to mark such a wonderful moment than to leave a little private memento.

  So I went to Poland, armed with a suitcase full of locks, found some willing volunteers and instructed them to add new locks to the iron railings of the bridge over the next few weeks. Some big, some small, some plain, some engraved, some not. Soon the bridge told a story of fictional love. It didn’t take long for my volunteer to report back that more were appearing of their own volition. It was then that I contacted the travel books, Lonely Planet, Rough Guides etc. and the news networks like the BBC and CNN. Before long stories were all over the internet and similar love bridges were appearing across Europe.

  It was then I had my second brain wave; the letter of complaint.

  I’d read about the John Lennon Wall in Communist Prague, as soon as the authorities painted over the picture of Lennon it would magically reappear. Would the same happen with my locks? My volunteers sent several letters to the local authorities where the lock bridges had appeared complaining of the eyesores in beauty spots. The councils responded quickly, removing the locks. But my suspicions were confirmed; as soon as the locks were removed they magically reappeared.

  Again we contacted the press, they loved the story; the locks had become not only a symbol of love, but a symbol of subversion.

  Now, wherever you go, any big city or town, you see love locks attached to bridges, railing, almost anything it is possible to attach a lock to. You might think oh how romantic, but I hear cash tills ringing.