If you read this blog, and haven’t picked up on that fact by now, I’m going to have to question your reading comprehension skills.
Virtually every afternoon, when the work day really gets me down, I find myself craving my favorite beverage.
Alas, the vending machines in my building do not dispense Snapple, regardless of how much money I shove into them.
So every day, I sigh and die a little inside as I try to pretend that my glass of water is just as delicious and refreshing as The Best Stuff on Earth.
Friday night, when I was grocery shopping (as I always do because I am a creature of habit), I came across an intriguing coupon on my store’s app.
$2.50 off a 12 pack of Snapple.
How could I ignore it? If I took advantage of it, I could bring a bottle to work every day, and enjoy a dozen consecutive joyous afternoons of placating my cravings.
So I took he plunge. As wild and crazy as that sounds, I actually bought something not on my shopping list.
I didn’t set out to be a rebel, but sometimes, one just gives in to the call of the wild.
It wasn’t until the following evening, when I entered my debit card purchase into my check book, that I realized I had been conned.
They had lured me into buying the 12 pack with their tempting coupon, but then they hadn’t taken the promised $2.50 off my bill.
What the @#$% were they trying to pull? Did they have any @#$%^&* idea who they were messing with?
Okay, I have to admit that I didn’t curse. I wasn’t even upset. I just added that to the post for a little dramatic effect.
I suddenly faced a philosophical quandary. $2.50 wasn’t a huge amount of money by any means, but the coupon had definitely influenced my purchase.
Plus, even if it was some sort of unfortunate oversight, it still made me feel like they were trying to pull something over on me, and I didn’t like that. If I didn’t say something, I’d convince myself I was a sucker who didn’t stand up for himself.
And to be honest, this country is already going to hell in a grocery basket. If we don’t honor our coupons, the next thing you know, we’re enacting The Purge and drawing names for The Hunger Games.
It was my patriotic duty to march back to the store and demand my money.
But the Yankees were on, and it was late, and I was already pretty comfortable on the couch. So I decided I would be an American hero the next day.
And hero it up, I did.
I marched into the grocery store, stood face to face with the high school kid behind the customer service counter, and politely explained what had happened.
His exact words, and I’ll never forget them because this was such a momentous occasion for me, were: “So, do you, umm, like just want your $2.50 then?”
@#$% yeah, I want my $2.50, son!
Again, I neither cursed, nor referred to the young man as “son”. I did, however, nod and put out my hand for him to fill it with cash.
I had stood up for what I believed in, and assured that every hardworking American still had a say in how this country does business.
And you know how I celebrated? By drinking an ice cold Snapple at my desk this afternoon while dreaming of all the exciting ways I could spend that $2.50 that was burning a whole in my pocket…