Couponing Distaster, Aisle 9….

Today felt like Monday.

I got up early and ate breakfast…and then crawled right back in bed, certain I really only needed ten minutes to get ready for the day.

When I got to school, I discovered that we had a drug prevention assembly right during math.  Over the course of the day, three parents stopped in to chat or get something.  Four kids were absent.  We started science rotations with a brand new class.

Exhausted, I returned home this evening and found an empty fridge staring back at me.  It does that after I go out of town, almost without fail.

Okay, not quite, but it was pretty empty….

I knew I would have to go grocery shopping after work, but at the last minute decided to do something brilliant.  Something that would save me money and make me feel good.  I looked down in my hand at the ads that had just come in the mail.

I would price match.

I had never price matched before in my life, but had been stuck behind enough other people in Wal-Mart who ensured that it took a full forty-five minutes to buy my six items that I had a pretty good idea how it worked.  You show up.  You hand them your ads.  You get cheap stuff.  Easy.

A friend had told me that I didn't actually even need the ads.  I could just say, "I'm price matching this broccoli that was in the Smith's ad for $0.98 a pound."

Of course, being new to all this (and a bit of an overachiever), I decided to really go above and beyond and clip the ads.  (Really, it was mostly because I would never remember all the ads and prices).

So, I sat down and carefully made a list.  I clipped each little ad, put them all in order, and stapled them together.  I even put at star by each item I'd be buying and wrote the name of the store the ad was from on the top.  In addition to the ads, my shopping list was even divided into price matched items and things I just needed to buy but wasn't using an ad for.

Feeling terribly proud of myself, I decided to check my email before I went.  I saw an email from Macey's--my absolute favorite grocery store.  (I try to tell Paul it's the happiest place on earth.)  I scanned the mail and quickly found that if I wrote what I liked about the store, I could be entered to win  a $250 gift card!  Quickly, I raved about how Macey's is a local business, they give back to the community, their employees are always friendly, and they have great ice cream.

Macey's--The Happiest Place on Earth

And then, in true hypocrite fashion, I walked out the door with my coupons to price match at Wal-Mart (or "That Bad Place" as my grandma would say).

In a hurry to get home in time for some dinner, I got my items fairly quickly.  Wanting to make the check-out as painless as possible, I divided the things in my cart into items that would be price matched and those that wouldn't.  Trying not to be that lady in line, I even arranged them on the belt in the order I had stapled the ads.  This was going to be soooo easy.  My six boxes of whole wheat pasta were lined up neatly, waiting to be scanned at $0.50 each.  Life was good.

As soon as it was my turn, I quickly announced, "I'm price matching today," in a confident voice, and then handed my neat pile over.

At first, it wasn't so bad.  She looked at them and then said, "Uh…the next time you want to price match, I need you to make sure you have the store name and date with you so I can make sure it is from the same week."

"Okay," I said calmly.  That made total sense.  You wouldn't want any of these crazy people using the same coupons week after week or anything.

What?!  There's a GUIDE to this?  Sigh….

However, as she starting to ring up each item, the woman got more and more angry.  "You really should have clipped the store name," she said, her voice rising.

"It's okay…if it doesn't work, we can just put the items back," I volunteered.  I tried not to make eye contact with the people behind me.  This was supposed to have been so easy.  The woman didn't respond.  She kept searching the ads, scrutinizing them.  "I don't even know where these are from!" she said, exasperated.

"Smiths," I replied, showing her in the corner where you could still see the "Smit" in red ink.

"There's no date!  You need a date," she glared.

"Really, I can just not buy the price matched items," I said, hoping we could just pretend it had never even happened.

When I looked back up, she was gone.  She vanished.  Just like that.  I looked around, wondering how many people were watching me.  I had become that crazy mom in Walmart.  Except I wasn't even a mom.  Or a hoarder.  Or an extreme couponer.  I just wanted my produce and the six boxes of whole wheat pasta and sauce to go with them.  That's it.  (Or I wanted to run all of it back to the shelves where I found it and pretend the whole thing never happened.  It was a toss up.)

Just as I was contemplating the possibility of fleeing, my cashier returned, waving a Smith's ad and looking through the pages, confident that I was some sort of coupon scammer.

I had already made it clear that the ads I had used had just come in the mail today.  I could see from the ad that it was what Smith's had sent out last week.

"Um…is that last week's ad?" I asked sheepishly.

"Yes!" she replied.  "It's the ad that goes until the end of today."

"Uh…the ad I used just came in the mail today." I repeated again.

"Well this is that ad that goes through today," she replied.

I took a deep breath and said, "It's okay.  We can just put the items back.  If it is a problem, I won't buy them."

And then, mysteriously, as though the customer always is right (although after at least four jobs working with the public I know better), she grabbed the items and terrifyingly punched them into her keypad with so much force I was afraid she would break the little keys.  She slammed the items into the bags, giving me a death glare as she did it.

I was swiping my card as she went, planning my speedy escape--all the while talking to myself in my head, letting me know that I was not a coupon scammer or a terrible person.  I just wanted four peppers,  five roma tomatoes, and six boxes of pasta for a cheaper price.  And the ad really did start today.  And it really was from Smith's.  And I really didn't know the rules for price matching.  (Clearly, I had been misinformed.)

As I got ready to run for my life, I heard a terse, "Run your card again.  It didn't read it."

Now I was waiting for the police to show up, feeling that I was not only some major scammer, but I probably was using a stolen card or had no money in my account.  I ran it again, crossing my fingers it would go through.

It did.

At least there is some mercy on this planet.

I grabbed my bags and was making an Olympic speed exit when I heard, "Ma'am…." in a voice that I now knew only too well.  "You forgot your bags."

Turning back, I looked apologetically at the poor woman who'd been standing behind me who was--yes, still waiting--grabbed my last two bags, and pushed that cart with all my might out the door, never looking back.

Don't worry Macey's.  I don't think I'll ever step out on you again like that.
Or if I ever do, I will at least bring evidence of the stores and dates that have pushed me to do it.

But that could be awhile…

After all, it takes a strong person to price match and I may not have what it takes.

But that's just me.

If by any chance you need some peppers, tomatoes, or at least six boxes of whole wheat pasta this week, you can get them price matched at Walmart.  Go ahead.  You should, however, take the ad.  The WHOLE ad.

But don't take my word for it.