Coupons.

Everyday, I drive 40 miles to work. People used to ask me, "Why do you drive so far...?" and I would respond with a shrug and say "There isn't work where I live." I have now changed my answer. I will now reply with; "I drive so far because I really like to be yelled at by rich old women with nothing better to do than gripe and complain about everything to the 20 somethings working retail and well, you see, those women just don't exist where I live." I always try to go to work happy, or at least go in with a fake smile, but lately, I have been struggling with even the "I'll be pleasant to you just because I am getting paid" smile. Why? I'll tell you. Coupons. All old women, except my granny, have coupons. I never thought such a simple and useful thing could be so complicated and cause such a fuss but I'm here to say that they can and do, everyday of my life. I am often met with a "WHY CAN'T I USE THIS??? I HAVE BEEN COMING TO THIS STORE FOR 20 YEARS!! I'M TAKING MY BUSINESS ELSEWHERE" or "SUCH AND SUCH STORE HAS THIS FOR 5 DOLLARS LESS!!!" I used to meet such remarks, or yells, with patience, but no more. I think I might start telling these old women what I really think, I mean, I only have a month left working there so I should have some fun before I leave, right? I don't know. But deep in my brain, there is a fiery volcano of angst when I am met with such remarks. This angst then turns into fists full of what I would say to them if only I could. Things like "Lady, I don't care where you take your business just as long as it's not here with me." Or "Listen, bossy, I don't know what you expect from this coupon but you should be jumping in excitement that this ugly shirt that you're about to buy is already marked down to 3 dollars instead of freaking out about the 20% off that you're not getting because the brand is excluded." I try and work and do my best when I'm clocked in on the ol' time clock and for these old women to just stand there with their eyes all wide and hands on their hips and say all this to me and all the others I work with just isn't flying. Good thing my mother raised me much like "Thumper"'s mother, cause I certainly don't have anything nice to say. Guess I won't be saying anything at all. But, let it be known, when I am old, I will not fight over an extra 60 cents off a 3 dollar shirt.