The Dark Side of Coupons

It only took me thirty-(mumble) years to realize it, but I am a highly impressionable project flitter. I go through phases of intense interest that almost always subside. Knitting, yoga, pureed vegetable cooking; you name it, I've tried it.

It is a key to our happy marriage that my husband knows to smile and nod at even my most cockamamie new hobbies, since he knows they will soon pass (and that opposing me will result in my defensive rage.)

I may, however, have recently found a fad that sticks: I am a total coupon convert. Every week I study the Sunday circulars, trolling for good deals and dollars off before heading to the grocery store.

When I arrive home, bags bursting with bargain food and sundries, I describe my amazing feats of fiscal responsibility in glorious detail to my husband, and anyone else in earshot.

How much would you pay for this frosting?" I ask.
"A dollar?" SJ guesses nonchalantly.
"A DOLLAR??? On a great sale day, maybe! Guess how much I paid? Twenty-five cents, that's how much! Weekly sales, plus double coupon, and WHAM, there you have it! That's a frigging miracle of planning, research, and sales, baby!"

Some people think that I have a problem.

I will admit that my new “lifestyle choice” has its downside.

For one thing, I notice the price of EVERYTHING. Whereas three months ago I lived my life in blissful price ignorance (I usually bought on sale, but didn’t notice prices), I can now tell you that $1.89 for Gala apples is highway robbery, and that brand-name Zyrtec is literally 740% more expensive than Costco generic. Helpful, yes, but even I get tired of the constant price math.

I think wistfully of coupons I used to have and bemoan my missed opportunities. "If only I had bought two papers last week, I could have saved $8 more!" I am right now picturing a $1 off Sunmaid raisins coupon that I could have combined with a two-for-one sale, but I pissed it away; for every deal I make there’s another big one that got away.

I broke into a cold sweat last week when I thought we'd left our Sunday paper at the lake. "You want me to turn around?" SJ asked mockingly. I said no, of course not, but he didn't know that this was only because I had already done cost/benefit analysis in my head comparing the circular savings with the 58 cents a mile federal travel reimbursement rate.

My coupon enthusiasm is starting to have negative effects on other parts of my life, which, as SJ points out, is a textbook definition of an addiction. I take it personally when SJ doesn't follow my labyrinthine coupon-related rules and regulations. The poor man caught hell when he bought bread the other day. "I just bought two loaves and I have coupons you could have used!" This was to save $2.49.

I spend twice the time at the grocery store, following carefully constructed lists and thumbing through organized envelopes of cents-off goodness. I’m pretty sure that I’m now known as the crazy lady with the manila coupon envelope at my local grocery store. They avoid my glances and act like they’re answering questions on invisible headsets when I approach.

It practically causes me physical pain to buy something at full price, which has turned my pantry into a bizarre conflagration of food items. There are six large cartons of Quaker Quick Oats (way cheaper than the little packets, and just as good if you add brown sugar and raisins), but no crackers or granola bars, because they haven't been on sale since I started my coupon mania. Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink…

I can't take a compliment without explaining the great lengths I went to in procuring the item. "Oh, thanks! I got this at Kohl's - 15% off, plus my in-store coupon on Black Friday...blah, blah, blah..." It occurs to me that although these comments are rooted in modesty -- a post-prosperity riff on "oh, this old thing!?" -- they end up verging on bragging. The subtext is yes, I'm stylish AND a smart shopper, and I really need to quit doing it.

Worst of all, my coupon obsession is BORING. I bore my husband, my extended family, my friends, and now my blog readers with my coupon adventures. Actually you beloved readers don't have it so bad, since I usually only post three times a week. Imagine dealing with me on a daily basis!

Truly, I think the appeal of coupon clipping is similar to a gambling addiction. There's the promise of a big payoff, and the ego stroke of feeling like I am smart enough to beat the system. Scoring a triple-coupon/two-for-one sale combo deal has got to be the same feeling as seeing three cherries show up on a slot machine. I may be in the canned vegetables section, but I’m hearing bells and seeing flashing lights.

So that’s the dark side. Does that mean I’m going to stop using coupons? Am I going to stop pouring over the circulars and stop swiping my neighbor’s Sunday paper under cover of darkness???*

Hells no! I saved 45% on my grocery bill last week. But I will cool it a little and keep things more to myself, except for the really good deals that I’ll share with you. As any anyone will tell you, addictions are fine as long as you partake alone, in the dark.

Right?
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*I’m mostly joking here; I waited two weeks to take it. They moved to Richmond a month ago, and I cleaned up all the rain-soaked papers on their driveway. But I will use the coupons!