Last Saturday, I got burned again by the coupons. Imagine, if you will, this riveting scene: The cashier at Wal-Mart has rung up my groceries and smugly announces the total. With an air of nonchalance, I hand him three coupons, as a sly rebuttal to what I allegedly owe. I want to say, “Ha! You only think I’m paying $63.49,” but I remain quietly triumphant behind a poker face. The ritualistic Dance of the Coupons has begun. With muscles flexed and forehead raised, I await the counterpunch.<\/p>\n
“This one’s expired,” he says flatly, with a coldness one would expect from a seasoned pawn shop dealer. Or a credit union. He’s clearly done this before.<\/p>\n
I don’t flinch. Again, I want to say, “Is that all you got?” But he doesn’t know I’m an English teacher, so the menacingly botched grammar would be wasted. <\/p>\n
The second coupon doesn’t scan, either. He looks in my bag, and then scans again. This time he frowns and looks up. For a split second, I think he’s bluffing.<\/p>\n
Then he goes for the kill. “Did you buy three boxes of Ziploc gallon bags?”<\/p>\n
Show no fear, I think to myself. But it’s too late. The color has drained from my face; my hands are clammy. I could have sworn that coupon promised $1 off if I bought only two boxes. Foiled again by fine print.<\/p>\n
I steal a glance at the lady behind me. She has tactfully averted her eyes. But I’m sure I see a crumpled coupon fall silently from her hand. She is paralyzed with fear.<\/p>\n
It’s of little consolation that the third coupon scans, and the cashier has to deduct 25 cents off my orange-scented Palmolive dishwashing soap. I swipe my bank card and slouch out of the store, crushed. As Randy might have said, I was not in-it-to-win-it. I am the weakest discount link. I have been voted off “Dancing with the Coupons.” And on top of everything else, I’m stuck with an extra 24 Ziploc gallon bags. <\/p>\n
What has happened to this world? Why do coupons now have multiple paragraphs of exceptions? Why must I hire a lawyer before I go shopping? Why do I get emails every day from Hewlett-Packard, offering me a $50 rebate on a new computer? Every single day this company thinks I’m going to change my mind and spend $1,500 I don’t have, didn’t budget and couldn’t pay back, just so that I can wait six months for $50, which should be barely enough to cover my bankruptcy paperwork.<\/p>\n
There is a reason why retail discounts have become a zero-sum game. It’s all because of those crazy ladies and their coupon overkill. <\/p>\n
You’ve seen her. With two shopping carts full and a file cabinet in tow, the couponista descends upon the checkout lane like a one-woman flash mob. Her binders of carefully arranged sale flyers make my nephew’s old Pokemon albums look like amateur Clutterville. This steely-eyed turbo-shopper, armed to the teeth with coupons, is the only person who can strike fear into that heartless cashier who ate my puny coupons for lunch.<\/p>\n
True stories: In Maryland a woman buys $2,000 worth of groceries for $100. In St. Louis a mom feeds three children on a monthly food budget of $30. A couponderosa in Idaho attempts 18 different transactions at the same store to maximize her savings.<\/p>\n
Welcome to the cult of Extreme Couponing.<\/p>\n
These modern-day knights are on a quest for the Holy Grail of free stuff. A part of me wants to cheer for them, as Robin Hood and her Merry Clippers strike a blow for anyone who was ever tricked into buying 80 rolls of Charmin Extra Sensitive toilet paper just to save a buck fifty. Hypothetically speaking, I mean. Oh dear, I’ve said too much.<\/p>\n
Anyway, I realize that times are tough and folks are desperate. I’ve seen women who would trade a small child for $3 off on Bertolli Spinach Alfredo dinners. And I concede that some couponzillas go extreme for charity. But for the rest of them, it seems like a game, a stunt to get on reality television. Their houses overflow with 40-pound bags of charcoal, paper napkins by the gross and scattered reams of discounts fresh from the printer. It’s “Extreme Couponing” meets “Hoarders” meets “Real Housewives of White County.”<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, the rest of us stand patiently in line, as some fast-talking dame \u2014 who has spent 80 hours per week plotting her strategy \u2014 tries to convince a dazed cashier that the Kroger across town is giving away Zebra Cakes for free. He believes her, but since I don’t have a flyer, I have to pay $1.59 for mine. It sounds like a couponzi scheme to me.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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