The “Give Their Favorite Flower” ad campaign is brilliant. Impeccably groomed male lumbersexual actors audition before a female casting director for the role of “florist”. These ads masterfully play out an imagined, sexualized, female fantasy of being in a position of power (a casting director) and because of this, having the full attention of an ingratiating, tacitly younger, naive, romeo. Showcased are their sculpted washboard abs, artful neck-to-wrist tattoos, meticulously maintained facial hair and messily coiffed hairdos. At first, I thought this ad was a spoof. Upon realizing that there were two more ads, I knew it was not.

My initial response was that these are funny — sexy sells and role reversal is funny. I get it. Or is it…not…really funny? Is funny a euphemism for depressing? When I realized what was happening, Could this be Donald Trump at a Miss Universe auditions? Absolutely. Does the off-screen “casting director” deserve an Oscar/BAFTA/César for her portrayal of an ogling sexist decision maker? Sure. If stereotypical roles were not reversed, too accurate?

At first I thought the intended audience was the recipient of said flowers — fantasizing a dreamy scenario of being spoiled, remembered, seen, attended to, winked at — but the final line flips the script: “Give their favorite flower.” Oh, oh, oh! The audience isn’t the recipient of the flowers, but the purchaser. Gearing the ad to the purchasing consumer is logical, but it made me feel duped. The underlying message: the bar is low, so pay just a little attention and you can master the gentler sex — a tiny bit goes a long way.

This reminded me of an encounter with a barista when I ventured into a hipster coffee shop (Intelligentsia) on a hipster street (Abbott Kinney) in a hipster neighborhood (Venice, CA). He resembled these florists (for visual, click here) and asked if I wanted my beverage sweetened with raw sugar, agave or stevia and patiently, almost academically explained the subtleties of each. His attention to detail threw me for a loop — could it be that he really cared about perfecting my beverage experience? Was this his own personal schtick? Or did all of the (male and female) baristas do this for bigger tips? Were the Q&A sessions part of the job (dark or medium roast, decaf or leaded, cold-brewed or traditional)? Were they merely catering to an L.A. Story-style, coffee-ordering demographic? Whenever driving by, the line out front is still unbelievably long. I find myself wondering whether it’s the coffee or the coddling that keeps people coming back.