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By Jack Godbey

Columnist

I enjoy a good sale more than most. I’m not saying that I’m tight with money, but I can hold onto a dollar bill so tight, I give George Washington a black eye. It seems that the price of everything has gone up, and getting a good deal is more important than ever. They say that a fool and his money are soon parted. This has never been more true. It’s not that I need to purchase things cheaper. I could easily just pay what they ask and go on about my life. However, where’s the fun in that? Yes, I’ve been known to buy a container of cheese puffs so big I can’t possibly eat them before they go stale just to save a quarter.

It’s not enough to just have good intentions because some stores will try to take advantage of the shall we say, less intelligent among us to trick us into thinking we are getting a good deal when we really aren’t. For example, I saw a sign at a shoe store today that said if I bought one pair, I would get two pair free. I refuse to be taken advantage of by this bogus sale. I went in an insisted that I pay for all three pairs. I didn’t fall of the turnip truck yesterday.

I was looking for a good deal on a mattress recently and I saw that a huge sale was going on at the mattress store. When I asked about the price, the clerk said I could purchase one for only a thousand bucks. Maybe that old mattress isn’t that bad after all. Those springs digging into my ribs as I sleep aren’t worth the war price they want for a new one. For that kind of money, the mattress better give me a massage and bring me breakfast in bed.

My wife sent me to the store yesterday to pick up some items. She said that she was making tacos so I should pick up some shredded cheese and a head of lettuce. She normally puts the exact brand name and size I am to get so that I don’t deviate from the plan. Just because I bought a ten-pound box of crackers once in 2019 because it saved me 50 cents off the price doesn’t mean I can’t be trusted at the store by myself. Never mind that I still have most of them although they have now turned into cardboard. I either have to eat them and pretend to enjoy them or admit that I was wrong. Which one do you think that I’ll do?

For some reason, she didn’t list any specifics about what kind of cheese she wanted so I went looking for a deal. I knew that I had messed up when I saw the look on her face when I arrived home with a 10-pound bag of cheese and a head of lettuce that I bought for a quarter. Just cut off the rotten spots and its fine.

When my wife saw a label on the cheese that said, “Contains no cheese,” I assured her that it would be fine. Now, here I sit eating a taco with what must be the worst-tasting cheese I’ve ever had in my life. It tastes like it’s made from paint thinner and chicken poop. I’ve never wished for a bologna sandwich so bad in my life, however, I’ll eat it and smile. It’s either that, or admit that I’m wrong. We both know that’s not going to happen. Anyone need any cheese?