While shopping at Staples earlier this week to get some nice professional paper on which to print my resume for the job fair, I stopped to peruse the digital cameras. I did a double-take when I spied this little red-tag deal underneath one of the cameras:
Hmmm... how's that for some major savings? Wow, instead of paying $249 for the camera, I'll only pay $248.99!! I think it would be easier to recoup that penny by just looking on the ground.
Yesterday I took Todd to the main branch of the Santa Barbara library system-- downtown, where parking spots are scarcer than virgin sheep in Wales, or talent at an American Idol audition (:-D). I entered a parking structure in which the first 75 minutes was free, and $1.50 for each additional hour thereafter. Knowing that the show we were going to watch would last just an hour, I figured we'd have plenty of time to make it out of there before 75 minutes was up. And we would have.... except...
My first mistake? Letting the slow-ass behemoth SUV go ahead of me as he pulled out of his parking spot and crawled toward the exit. Probably afraid to dent his shiny new gas-guzzler in the cramped garage. My second mistake? Not honking more avidly at the other cars lined up in front of us to pay at the exit. Time was ticking, and people took their sweet time scrounging for change in their purses. By the time I reached the exit, 76 minutes had elapsed since I withdrew the ticket from the entrance, and I was charged $1.50 for basically idling in line trying to get OUT of the damned parking garage! I tried pleading my case to the hapless parking attendant, who was too low on the totem pole to do anything about it, especially as everything was automated. But it sure got my blood boiling. Now that I think back, maybe I should've paid by credit card. Stick the county with the credit charges ;-) Ah well... next time!
And today I was on my way out of the apartment with the laundry hamper in my arms and Todd following me, clutching a box of laundry detergent. Quite clearly, we were on our way to the laundry room. What do you suppose we were going to do once we arrived? Gee, ya think? Maybe you can enlighten the salesperson (of sorts) that approached us on our way. Her attempt at small talk? "Going to do some washing?"
Again, too late with the snappy comeback. I wish I had thought to say, with a completely straight face: "No, I'm just gonna burn a few buildings down. These 'clothes' are highly flammable, and my son's not actually holding detergent, that's gasoline". Or something equally absurd...
And then, with a flourish: "Here's your sign"
:-D
(originally posted at: http://www.myspace.com/hellykwee/blog/329068221)
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