NB: A version of this column appeared in Tuesday's Business to Business, a monthly publication of the Bozeman Chronicle.
I apologize to the three grocery store customers behind me on Sunday who had to wait while the checker ran back to see whether I was telling the truth that the new Ruby Red lettuce salad was included in the two-for-five special. And I apologize to the other four customers just a few days later who endured an extended perusal of the tabloids while the bread price check was concluded.
I’m the woman that the supermarket checkers don’t want to see coming, and I’m sorry for that as well. I know I’m a pain, with my incessant coupons and my challenges of the scanned prices. And did you get my credit for the canvas bags? Because that $.05 off is going to magically take the pain away from the $15.99 I just paid for 60 diapers.
I can’t help it. I was raised this way. And if I do say so myself, I am—annoyingness notwithstanding—quite good at grocery shopping. Unfortunately, it’s a talent appreciated by only a select few—and never by those who must endure me hunched over checking the per-item price to make sure that I’m getting the best deal on my six-count double rolls of TP.
Frankly, though, the game of late has become far less fun. As hard as I try, I can’t seem to get the bills as low as I used to. The coupons are harder to find, and the staples don’t seem to be on sale as often. What’s worse, I have an almost encyclopedic knowledge of what things “used” to cost—whether that was last week or four years ago when we moved back to the United States. I can tell you that canned beans and canned tomatoes were routinely available two-for-a-dollar near the end of 2004. Now, I can barely find them at 10-for-$10.
This leads to a lot of grumbling while I shop, which my husband good-naturedly puts up with, all the while reminding me that it does precious little good to remember that I used to be able to get organic milk for $3.19. It’s not as if any of these stores are going to give me a special nostalgia price break just because I can remember what their cheese went for last week. (It was $1.79! Now it’s $2.09. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?)
I’m also being driven slowly mad by the downsizing of products combined with the upsizing of their prices. In my world, it’s not a compliment to note that a product has lost weight. (You are looking thinner, Ms. Not-a-Half Gallon of Butter Brickle! And so are you, Mr. Oat-ring Cereal that Claims to Lower Cholesterol!) How is it that I must pay more for the 12-ounce “pound” of coffee than I used to pay for a real pound?
I recognize that prices have had to go up. Those paper towels don’t get to the stores themselves, after all, and shipping things cross-country is not exactly cheap with diesel prices oftentimes higher than regular gasoline. Certainly manufacturers and shippers and retailers deserve to make their profits. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.
It does mean that I’m being extra-vigilant these days—hence the price-checking and rabid comparison shopping—so be on guard not to get in line behind me. I’ll be the one making the checkers fumble for their lane closing signs.