the thrilling purchase of wool socks

Coupons. You know how they're evil, right? Like you see the coupon and this warm glowing haze descends. You're going to save money today! And with those savings you'll buy a piece of earth, call it Tara and protect it with your flesh, blood and bone for fifty generations until the troops sweep through and burn your house to the ground, but you know what, the land is still there and as long as you have land you can stand up tall. On BOTH feet, son.

But it's not that simple. At least it isn't for me. There are six things, yea, even seven I cannot abide. One of these things is picking grocery lines. I'm so bad at it. I always pick the line with the coupon lady (the one who has coupons instead of hair and her breath smells like newsprint and her eyes leak CMYK ink schemes instead of tears). You know the one. Or I get behind the repeat felon who tries to pay for everything with pennies and nickles except they're not really pennies and nickles, they're Canadian money and let's not even get started about Canadian money. Or I pick the line where the register breaks suddenly and for no reason, or the line where someone dies suddenly and for no reason. I try to use self-checkout whenever possible. In my opinion the best invention ever was the self-checkout machine. It allows me to shop in a smooth, safe way and avoid all human contact (and thus all human judgment) at the same time.

One of the last times I went through a grocery store line (the "express" line) I got stuck behind, yes, a repeat felon who was drunk when he shouldn't have been drinking (as per his parole agreement) and jingling car keys in one hand when I also knew his driving license had been suspended for life. And we were both stuck behind a guy who was paying entirely in coupons and pennies and didn't have enough of either item. So. Drunk Felon got worked up into this rant (he really just wanted to buy his five cans of pizza sauce and leave the store, I could tell) about how grocery lines are the worst. I nodded sympathetically. Then, he went from that into a rant against self checkout machines.

"They take away jobs!" he told me, leering and lurching and smelling to the stratosphere of cheap, cheap beer.

"Well, it is almost midnight. The store doesn't have very many people working that shift," I pointed out. "How many jobs could the machines possibly be replacing right now?"

"I guess. Anyway. Whenever you pay for stuff you should always have the money ready and you should never pay with a credit card. It makes everything take too d--n long. Only pay with...cash."

"I'm going to pay with a card," I said. This was almost a lie. I had been planning to pay with cash until Drunk Felon butted in. Card all the way now, though, bet your life on it.

"Oh." He lurched again. "I guess...cash. Card. Or check. Nothing else."

I decided not to ask what else anyone could possibly pay with. Food stamps, I guess. Or coupons. Which brings us back to the topic at hand.

I try to avoid coupons because they confuse me and usually snag me into more purchase than I want to purchase. You think you only have to buy one something to get another something half off or free and then you get to the register and you had to buy two somethings to get a third half off. Who needs three somethings? I only wanted two. Or coupons expire unexpectedly. Or marginally do or don't apply in confusing ways to what you thought you could buy with them. It's too much for me to untangle and life is short enough.

However. Last night, I used a coupon to buy wool socks. I wanted wool socks because two years ago I got frost bite and versions of frostbite have followed me ever since and it's been super cold here. My feet have suffered. My feet need wool socks.

With a coupon, I purchased one pair of socks and another (of equal or lesser value) half off. A-mazing. Totally navigated that coupon-aided purchase like a champ. It gives me courage, but I'm also afraid to press my luck. Despite this success, I think I'll still avoid coupons in the future. Seems safer to me.