No Free Lunch? How About 23 Cents (And A Couple Hours Wait)?
D.A. Ridgely on May 9th 2008
As a fan of professional football and college basketball, I pay scant attention to the NBA even when my hometown Washington Wizards make it to the playoffs. I missed, therefore, a bit of good natured sports rivalry wherein some enterprising D.C. Papa John’s pizza franchisee made up some T shirts calling Cleveland Cavaliers star LeBron James a “crybaby.” Frankly, it would take more than a free T shirt to get me to eat a Papa John’s pizza (or any other franchise pizza, for that matter) but apparently Cleveland’s Papa John’s shops have responded, offering local fans a pie for a mere 23 cents in “homage to James’ jersey number.” A pretty good deal, huh?
Alas, those pesky laws of supply and demand and something about price elasticity struck with 90 minute or longer lines quickly forming. “In suburban Cleveland, people stood wrapped in blankets outside a store in Westlake and the line was two blocks long in University Heights.” But, hey, it isn’t like a person’s time is valuable, too, is it?
Filed in The Basement, The Bistro |
“I pay scant attention to the NBA even when my hometown Washington Wizards make it to the playoffs.” — As near as I can figure out, nobody in the city paid attention. They were trying to sell tickets the day of playoff games.
Yes, I suspect they were followed far more closely back when their team name was something the average citizens of DC had more personal experience with.
In recent years, the cost of time has made me wonder why we see so much queueing in the face of price floors. In the Econ 101 lecture, you’re lead to believe that the full quantity demanded shows up and waits in line when prices are too low. But surely a large chunk of quantity demanded looks at the line, shrugs its shoulders and moves on to consume something else.
D.A. Ridgely wrote:
Well, that describes me! I live just outside of Akron, Ohio — and I’m a LeBron fan. We wanted to get our pizza but paid for a Hungry Howie’s Pizza instead.
The Papa Johns’ 23 cent deal extended from Toledo, down to Wooster and Canton, all the way over to Youngstown. In other words, nearly the entire northern-third of the state.
The line at our local Papa Johns’, which is walking distance from my house, was running two to three hours in the middle of the afternoon. They were no longer taking phone orders. You stood in line, and you got the plain pizza they made as it came out of the oven.
We decided it wasn’t worth the time — not to mention that has a family just one pizza is only an appetizer (two is our standard order) and we all prefer toppings. So we used our two for one card at Hungry Howie’s Pizza.
Interestingly, Hungry Howie’s was busy. Papa John’s built up demand for pizza in general. So when people saw the line, they, like us, didn’t give up on their desire.
I’m not an economist, nor do I play one on the internet, but of course time is valuable so there must be some explanation why people would wait hours for a 23 cent pizza.
The problem here is how to keep from theorizing a tautology, but I think the phenomenon is similar to those occasions when, the jackpot being high enough, I indulge in buying a lottery ticket. No, I don’t think I’m going to beat the 150 million to one or whatever it is odds, but I do derive at least a dollar’s worth of pleasure being able to fantasize about all that money until the drawing. Anyway, I’m thinking that for Cleveland Cavalier or James fans, the experience of participating in the event is more important than the cheap pizza, itself, rather like the way fans will wait for hours just to catch a glimpse of their idols.