I have always had a penchant for finding great deals. A few years back, when a local pharmacy was closing its doors for good, my partner and I decided to check out the clearance sale. To our astonishment, it was their final day, and everything was marked down by 90 percent. Alternatively, you could purchase a large bag for just five dollars and stuff it with as much as you could carry. We are definitely fans of the big bag approach.
After handing over ten bucks, we dashed toward the pharmacy aisle. To our dismay, we found shelves stripped of essentials like Pepto-Bismol and Tylenol, but there it was — a massive jug of milk of magnesia.
“That’s not useful to us,” my partner, Mark, said.
“Come on, it’s practically free!” I replied. “Just grab it.”
As we moved to the skin and hair care section, we found nothing but empty shelves — no moisturizer or shampoo left. Yet, like a mirage in a desert, an entire shelf of Coppertone sunscreen awaited us.
“How did people overlook these?” I thought, tossing about twenty bottles into my bag. “This is expensive stuff!”
Turning the corner, we stumbled upon a massive display of banana slicers.
“Who even thought of this?” I mused.
“That’s absurd,” Mark concurred. “It takes more effort to clean that than to just use a knife.”
We snagged a dozen anyway.
“Attention shoppers, there are only five minutes left!” blared the management over the intercom.
Panic set in. Mark and I split up to maximize our haul. He headed for foot care products while I rushed toward the beauty aisle. All that remained were used lipsticks and eye shadows in colors that defied description. I quickly moved on to the greeting cards section.
Frantic shoppers were snatching up anything within reach, and I joined them without hesitation. I didn’t even bother reading the cards; if they had matching envelopes, they were mine. My eyes then caught sight of some vibrant book covers adorned with what I thought were cool designs.
“How did I miss these?” I exclaimed, perhaps a bit too loudly, as I grabbed forty packages. (Okay, they weren’t exactly masterpieces; they looked more like they had been painted by a toddler, but the adrenaline was surging, and I lost my reason for a moment.)
Once back at the car, Mark and I erupted into laughter as we sorted through our finds.
“Uh, Mark,” I said, “Seven packages of corn remover blades? We don’t even have corns!”
“Hey, I’m not judging,” he chuckled. “Did we actually need this kidney disease testing kit?”
Our bags were filled with items that even a thrift store might discard — light bulbs for appliances we didn’t own, greeting cards with cringeworthy jokes, and $111 worth of sunscreen that could last a lifetime.
Mark raised an eyebrow at the book covers. “What’s the plan for those?”
“I thought we could hand them out on Halloween,” I suggested.
“Kids want candy, not book covers,” he said.
“But we’re giving out candy too!” I insisted. “This is just an extra treat.”
He shook his head. “They’ll think we’re trying to unload junk. We’ll get egged.”
“Not a chance! It’s a little something special, like a ‘lovely parting gift.’”
I couldn’t wait to prove him wrong. I could almost hear the delighted laughter of the kids as they received their unique gifts.
Come Halloween, I stationed myself at the door, ready with praise for costumes and a handful of chocolates. The first group of kids didn’t even acknowledge the book covers; it was as if I had handed them a rock.
Then came a trio — Buzz Lightyear, Tinkerbell, and Shrek. I showered them with candy and added the book covers, but got nothing in return. Tinkerbell looked at me as if I had just offered her a dirty sponge.
This awkward exchange continued until an eight-year-old Batman and a six-year-old cop came to the door. I handed them a fistful of chocolate and tossed in the book covers.
“She must be trying to get rid of these,” Batman whispered to his friend.
“What? I’m not!” I exclaimed defensively. “I bought these for you! Look, you have great candy too — not those cheap old lady treats!”
Mark overheard and chuckled, “You’re arguing with the trick-or-treaters?”
“I gave them candy! It was just a little bonus,” I grumbled.
“You’re lucky we’re not getting eggs thrown at us,” he said.
I still don’t get it. I would have appreciated the book covers. While others hand out lame candy corn erasers and penny candies, I thought I was offering something unique.
To this day, I stick to classic candy options like Milky Ways and Butterfingers. But if Batman ever returns, I’ve got a banana slicer with his name on it.
If you’re interested in exploring more about home insemination, check out this helpful resource. For more on the topic, see what experts have to say. You can also visit this excellent resource for valuable information on pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary:
The author shares a humorous experience at a pharmacy closing sale that spirals into a chaotic Halloween where well-intentioned gifts go unappreciated. The tale highlights the mismatch between expectations and reality, especially when it comes to giving unique treats. Ultimately, it reflects on the joy of bargains and the importance of understanding the audience when giving gifts.