Not to come-off as some sort of snob, but ever since I moved to the ritzier part of town a couple of years ago, I’ve done all my shopping at those speciality stores which are very tailored to specific niches. I don’t care if they cost twice as much as those large chains; I absolutely adore their unhurried ambience, and the fact that the people who run the places are aware and passionate about what they’re doing. As a matter of fact, I enjoy having to choose between 72 different kinds of exotic coffee; and I don’t even drink coffee!
What began innocently-enough as evenings spent exploring varied kinds of chocolate and sniffing different cheeses, soon crept into all aspects of my shopping. Before long, even grocery-shopping morphed to adventures in hand-picking wild berries; and the large chain-stores were soon a fading memory.
But, as was made painfully apparent a few days ago, there is always some eclectic thing which these stores won’t stock—a highly specific sort of head for a European electric toothbrush, perhaps?—and then you’re forced to make a trip to the big city and enter the big (bad) chain-store to satiate those needs.
After stepping-in and picking-up an item of toiletry or three, you soon find yourself owing the big (bad) chain-store $132, and you’re at the check-out counter, where an over-worked, under-paid “Wendy” will be there to “help” you. I mean, come on, she doesn’t even know my name (or how I like to organise my lotions)! Anyway, upon reaching said cashier’s counter, I was asked to present to her my SavingsPlus+ (the additional plus sign to really emphasise how much you’re saving?) card. You know, the things which magically drop the price of a stick of gum from 80c to 68c? The things that conveniently help the big (bad) chain-store keep a track of your purchasing habits? Yes, those SavingsPlus+ cards.
Having not shopped there in a couple of years at least, I informed “Wendy” that I didn’t have one, and that I was more than willing to forego their fabulous discounts.
As it turned out, this wasn’t the smartest thing to do; it seemed to really throw “Wendy.” Apparently, this was one concept her brain wasn’t wired to comprehend. She went berserk trying to show me how much money I’m losing ($6.34, if you’re curious), and kept insisting that I apply for a discount card right then and there. Not wanting to bother myself with filling out a form, I tried telling her again that I wasn’t interested in her savings, I just wanted to get out of there. When it was apparent she wasn’t listening, I rudely presented her the $132, and walked away with my things.
I realised soon enough that I was being chased by someone. Not just anyone, but our tenacious “Wendy,” who just wouldn’t let up. She’d followed me out to tell me that if I were to rush home and return with my SavingsPlus+ card, I could have my $6.34 back.
At this point, I nearly snapped. “Cool it lady. It’s 6 bucks. It’s MY 6 BUCKS. AND I DON’T CARE. I DON’T KNOW HOW THINGS ARE IN EAST EUROPE OR WHEREVER YOU’RE FROM, BUT THESE THINGS AREN’T A BIG DEAL,” were along the lines my mind was racing, but I politely nodded and left the scene.
Needless to say, I won’t go back there ever again, and I most definitely don’t plan on letting them track my spending habits anytime soon through their SavingsPlus+ scam.
I don’t care if people looked at me funny for picking up a few years’ worth of exfoliating body wash.
pundit@emphaticallystatic.org
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