If you don’t get a little bit excited for Sundays because the new grocery ad and coupon books arrive in the paper, then you probably won’t relate to this post.
You see, I love Sundays for that simple fact (and because I don’t work and usually don’t wash my hair or do much of anything productive, which is why I usually don’t wash my hair. That would be productive.)
My only true ad interest is in the produce section and my “staple” items, as many of my specialty food purchases rarely go on sale. Boo hiss. But when my “staples” go on sale, watch out.
Mad woman with a cart* coming through!
*For the record, I’m 2,456,667 for 2,456, 667 in picking the one cart that will be stuck inside another cart, forcing me to get all Jackie Chan on said carts until I admit defeat and just push both of the bastards around stuck together.
I have pride.
Anyway, seeing as I do the grocery shopping for my mom and uncle as well, I become rather familiar with the ad by about Wednesday. At that point I’m more knowledgeable about the products than store staff is and can be found counseling shoppers about how to save on their purchases.
I consider it community service.
I also clip the coupons on Sunday for them and organize them in my little coupon keeper. Every Sunday I weed out the old and add in the new, but sometimes an old one gets missed.
This old one will most likely be the one I want to use on the grocery trip one day after it expired. Seeing as this wasn’t discovered until I’m already in the checkout line, I’m forced to make a decision—try and sneak it through or throw it away? Unless I know the cashier is a badass who’ll bust me, who are we kidding? Of course I’ll try and still use it.
In fact, I should try my hand at high stakes poker because of how good I am at keeping a straight face when knowingly using an expired coupon.
I usually make sure to sandwich the expired one in between two “valid” ones, if those are also being used. In my demented way of thinking, I believe the cashier is going to think, “She’s using two good coupons, so this probably slipped in by mistake! Of course I’ll give her 50 cents off of this cereal! She’s practically a saint, for god’s sake!”
When passing over the expired offender, I also try and busy myself with the rest of my bags and coupons while she tries to scan it in.
Some don’t care and figure the machine is just being funny. Others immediately get all CSI: Coupon and check the expiration date that I forgot to “accidentally” clip off with the scissors.
Again, I assume the internal dialogue of the cashier is running along the lines of, “This coupon is expired, but she looks really busy rearranging the bags I just filled with her stuff—pulling things out to examine them before glancing back up and then rearranging the bags yet again. She needs to save $1 on two cans of chickpeas.”
Of course the situation often arises when I am busted, at which point I put on an Oscar-worthy performance of feigned ignorance about what the date is. (To be fair, I usually don’t ever know what date is, but these cashiers don’t’ read my blog and are unfamiliar with my level of neurosis.)
But I act surprised, tell her to toss it—as if she’s going to keep it for her own collection or something if I don’t—and after paying, raise my head high and push my two conjoined grocery carts out to the car.
I have pride, you know.
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