Dollar Store Delights: She's Got Breadhead.

I picked up a new magazine recently -- Budget Something Or Another -- and in there was an article all about dollar stores and how they shouldn't be underestimated.

Since our move last year from Big City, I haven't been to the apparently under-appreciated nearest dollar store, but thought this seemed like a reasonable time -- and a perfect excuse -- to check it out.

And so, justified by a magazine article to re-connect with dollar stores, I entered the store determined to stay on track. First goal: NOT getting a cart or a basket.

This was an exploratory trip. Just checking things out. I did have my purse with me, but a cart or basket makes it too easy to simply toss items in and then "think about it" as you shop and the next thing you know, you're lugging eight containers of almost-expired V-8 Splash home, with no place to store them, not sure if the family even likes V-8 Splash and not exactly how, even if the family does like it how it will all be consumed before, or even near, the expiration date in four days, but what the hell? It was A DOLLAR. This was the mentality I was determined to defeat. No basket. No cart. No large-scale juice purchases.

I wandered through and made mental notes of things that would be handy, were cheaper, would make great kid's gifts, smiled at some of the just plain goofy things, and wondered -- a lot -- "who in the sam hell buys some of this stuff?" I rationalized that if it was such a good deal, I'd remember what it was and would go back at the end and get it.

By isle 18, I totally caved to my plan and loaded up on glue sticks, some stationery, some kids books and three loaves of bread. The bread was near expiration, but was a kind that, at the grocery store, runs 2.99 a loaf, so this seemed like a rational purchase: it's edible, we'd buy it anyway, we all like it and it freezes well... After similar rationalization processes for the other items, I got in the checkout line.

The guy behind me was singing along with Mick Jagger and the Stones' I Can't Get No Satisfaction which was blaring over the intercom. Pretty sure he was drunk, I remembered that this is why I shy away from dollar stores on the fringe of town. I closed my eyes and repeated the line in the magazine article: "don't underestimate dollar stores, don't underestimate dollar stores" and reminded myself that drunk people probably shop at Target, too.

"Eleven dollars," said the cashier, as I handed her my debit card. "We don't accept cards," she said.
"Oh, ok... good to know," I said, relieved I had tossed my checkbook in my bag at the last minute.
"...And we don't accept checks unless your purchase is over 20 dollars, " she said. "There's a sign on the door as you come in."
"Oh," I said, "Um... well let me see how much cash I have."

By now the line is backing up, and Drunk Guy starts dinging the little bell on counter, implying he needs help, which he thought was hysterical. I rifled through the depths of my bag and pulled out all sorts of treasures -- broken candy canes, a fork that can extend to one and a half feet, a loose Milk Dud, a trial size Scope, napkins from some fast food place -- and in the end, managed to find six one dollar bills.

"I only have six dollars," I tell her, half hoping she'll announce that I'm the 100th customer and it's all FREE. Wooopee!! I weigh the pros and cons of just running out of there with nothing OR trying to pay for what I can. I push the glue sticks, kids books and super-cute stationery aside. It takes all my strength to not start telling the cashier about the article I read, and this really was just an exploratory trip and I hadn't really intended to purchase anything, anyway -- see I didn't even have a basket -- so this is all really not a big deal, and that I missed the sign because I focused on not getting a cart...

"Ok, I'll just take the three loaves of bread," I tell her.
"Restocking, to Lane 3," the cashier calls on the intercom, clearly annoyed with me. "Restocking to Lane 3."
"Bummer, dude," says Drunk Guy, pounding louder on the bell. "Oh, don't worry about the bell, he says to me. "It's an inside joke," he added, winking at the cashier, and singing aloud "hey, hey, hey, HEY... that's what I say... I can't GET NO.... sa-TIS-FAC-tion..."
"Three dollars," the cashier said to me while winking back at Drunk Guy.

As I was putting my stuff away, trying to shake the eebie-geebies I got by seeing the cashier and the Drunk Guy flirting, I asked the cashier for a receipt, thinking of my due diligence for the receipt basket. On the way out, I noticed the sign the cashier had mentioned, made note of where the carts were and, payment problems and drunk singing men aside, left fairly satisfied, wondering if humiliation was the reason to not underestimate dollar stores.

Dollars Saved: $6, minus cost of magazine, $4.95+tax
Humiliation Level: 7
Complete Lyrics to the Rolling Stones' I Can't Get No Satisfaction

I can’t get no satisfaction,
I can’t get no satisfaction.
’cause I try and I try and I try and I try.
I can’t get no, I can’t get no.

When I’m drivin’ in my car
And that man comes on the radio
And he’s tellin’ me more and more
About some useless information
Supposed to fire my imagination.
I can’t get no, oh no no no.
Hey hey hey, that’s what I say.

I can’t get no satisfaction,
I can’t get no satisfaction.
’cause I try and I try and I try and I try.
I can’t get no, I can’t get no.

When I’m watchin’ my tv
And that man comes on to tell me
How white my shirts can be.
Well he can’t be a man ’cause he doesn’t smoke
The same cigarrettes as me.
I can’t get no, oh no no no.
Hey hey hey, that’s what I say.

I can’t get no satisfaction,
I can’t get no girl with action.
’cause I try and I try and I try and I try.
I can’t get no, I can’t get no.

When I’m ridin’ round the world
And I’m doin’ this and I’m signing that
And I’m tryin’ to make some girl
Who tells me baby better come back later next week
’cause you see I’m on losing streak.
I can’t get no, oh no no no.
Hey hey hey, that’s what I say.

I can’t get no, I can’t get no,
I can’t get no satisfaction,
No satisfaction, no satisfaction, no satisfaction