I’m staring at an empty fridge. The Tupperware inside holds nothing appetizing. So, naturally, I do the millennial thing: I open an app. I scroll past katsu curry and biryani. I settle on a stack of pancakes and burritos. I add guacamole. I watch a digital courier move across a map.
I then eat cold beans straight from the tin.
The meal never arrived. I wasn’t scammed. My neighbors didn’t steal it. The fact that zero food changed hands was the entire point.
The app is called Food Never Comes. It is a “dopamine site” from South Korea. It simulates the joy of ordering without the cost. Other platforms like Dopahaul and PeykMart do the same for physical goods. You “buy” items. You track fake deliveries. No money changes hands. No shame in returning ugly wooden clogs ordered at 2 AM from an Instagram ad you barely remember.
Doom-Spending Is Real (And Expensive)
I’m what psychologists might call a “doom-spender.” When life is good, I don’t touch the shopping apps. When stress hits? I panic-buy wiggly photo frames. Why buy a house when I can buy plastic clutter?
I am not alone in this. A recent Tesco Bank survey found 18% of adults “doom-spend” when facing bad news or depressing social media feeds. The younger the demographic, the worse it gets. 37% of Gen Z. 25% of Millennials. They admit to spending to cope with negative headlines.
Could fake shopping sites be a healthier, cheaper alternative to retail therapy? Or are we just heading toward a Black Mirror episode where we tap our screens in silent, simulated satisfaction?
The Science Of Fake Pleasure
Dopamine is a neurotransmitter. It drives the brain’s reward system. You feel pleasure from enjoying an experience. But psychotherapist Eloise Skinner explains something crucial: dopamine fires during anticipation.
“When our brain predicts a pleasurable outcome, It triggers a dopamine release,” Skinner says. This reinforcement makes us repeat the behavior.
These fake sites exploit that loop. They trigger the rush of pressing “add to basket” without delivering the reward. Skinner notes that because there are “no eventual consequences,” the dopamine hit doesn’t fade due to disappointment when the item never arrives.
“The feeling of no consequences might give us a sense of freedom, autonomy and control… which can be welcome in generations where life feels stressed and overwhelming.”
Think of it as high-tech window shopping. Or “ghost shopping”—adding items to a cart and never checking out. It’s excitement without financial ruin.
The Hollow Victory Of Digital Window Shopping
On Food Never Comes, every item has a price. Fake delivery fees. Fictional taxes. It feels real.
Using it revealed my own boredom. Often, I don’t actually want Uber Eats. I’m just scrolling for a buzz. The simulation scratches the itch enough that I forget to order real food.
But Dopahaul? That didn’t work for me. The interface looks like Temu or AliExpress. Orange color scheme. AI-generated product photos. The tech gadgets are fine. The fashion is a nightmare.
I see “freaky” knee-high leather boots. Trainers labeled “Adasdas.” A “SoftSculpt ribbed co-od set” in cream and mocha that looks like Victorian undergarments, not Pilates wear. It lists 28,900 units sold. Is that real data or just algorithmic filler? Maybe I’m a retail snob. I’d probably enjoy a platform selling imaginary smock dresses from “Dope-a-Porter.”
But the simulation breaks down. What comes next? A dating app with imaginary matches? Swiping for a hit without human connection?
“If someone is prone to overspending… these sites might be a way to reduce consequences in the short term… but the risk is they will become an avoidance tactic.”
Lowri Walsh, a psychotherapist at the University of Lancashire, warns against using these apps to bypass loneliness, anxiety, or grief. If you don’t tackle the underlying cause, you’re just swapping one bad behavior for another.
Walsh argues this creates a digital distraction loop. “You’re just living a simulated life… the constant reward makes real life feel not as exciting.”
It makes me pause. Do I really want to waste non-refundable minutes scrolling through products that don’t exist? Following a driver who will never arrive?
When framed that way, the answer is no. The high fades. The fridge stays empty. The anxiety remains.
