Senior Year

If I won the lottery tomorrow, I'm pretty sure I would still be a regular customer at my local thrift stores. I'll be sure to confirm that assumption as soon as those damn ping-pong balls fall into line but until then, I'll be on the hunt for unique bargains anywhere I can find them.

It's not just purveyors of second-hand goods that get my blood pumping. Places like Marshall's and TJ Maxx were my mainstays long before they started having cool TV commercials featuring savvy twenty-somethings touting designer fashions at discount prices and the new flyers from Costco or Trader Joe's are my idea of scintillating reading material. I clip coupons (okay, I forget to bring them to the store but I do clip them), drive ten miles to save a couple of bucks on toilet paper, and head straight to the clearance rack in any store I enter.

With all that said, I have a great deal of trouble accepting one particular discount that has recently come my way. I was getting ready to check out at the local Goodwill store. I had an armful of Coldwater Creek and Banana Republic outcasts that were going to add up to less than the cost of a Target t-shirt when the youngster behind the desk asked me if I had my Goodwill frequent buyer card. When I replied I had one but didn't have it with me, he innocently responded that he "just wanted to mention it in case I was eligible for the Wednesday senior discount".

Talk about a mood killer. Here I was on a bargain hunter's high, getting designer duds for pennies on the dollar when, out of the blue, this kid shoots me down with his insinuation that I might be eligible for a senior discount. And it wasn't even the over 55 variety. It was 60. That little punk thought I looked 60. If it had been one of my bad hair days or one of my rushing out of the house without make-up days, I might have cut him some slack. But this was one of those "I just washed my hair and look pretty darn good" days. Or so I thought.

After confirming that I was indeed eligible for his stupid 15% discount, he packed my now tainted bargains into a bag, collected his $15.82 and wished me a nice day.

Too late.