It was a decade ago, the day of our annual hospital gala, an event known in our household as Doctor Prom, and I had no pants to wear for the evening’s festivities.
I’d recently found a snazzy blazer that screamed Christopher Moltisanti from the Sopranos. I needed a matching tie to fit my budding image as a would-be mafioso.
Additionally, what few slacks I owned were worn, sad legacies of my fellowship, when I was expected to wear khakis on duty in the ED.
(Don’t get me started on what’s wrong about about New England doctor wear. Nowadays, you can take my scrubs when you pry them from my cold, lifeless body.)
This was a decade ago, well before my financial awakening, but I still loved a good deal.
Hoping to spend down a gift card left over from our wedding, I headed to the local Macy’s, where I bee lined for the discount rack.
I found an adequate tie as well as a decent pair of slacks that rendered my appearance most callipygous (as my wife would later tell me).
The slacks had multiple markdowns already noted on the tag, with the most recent reduction noting a price of ten bucks! Sweet!
I brought my items to checkout, where the polite woman behind the register informed me that a special seasonal promotion would result in a further discount on already discounted items today only. Triple word score on Scrabble good fortune!
She rang up the tie – $10 off plus an additional 20% discount. So far, so good.
Next she rang up the pants – one penny.
I didn’t have the heart to let her undercharge me and risk her employment, so I asked her if this was a mistake.
She took a moment and ran the tag through the machine again – no mistake.
I looked around for hidden cameras, but there were none.
They should make rings to commemorate this kind of victory, like a World Series of Discount Shopping.
If you find that they do, please be warned: I don’t pay retail.