Me: “Oh my God, look – 60% off a coffee enema!”
Virtually Everyone Within Earshot: “You really need to see someone about this.”
I am, as almost anyone will attest (if properly threatened) a man of extraordinary taste. Regrettably, I am a man of ordinary means. And short of a career in shoplifting – which, although chock full of excitement, danger, and hard-to-remove security tags, also comes brimming with untimely incarceration and the bothersome issue of morality – I realized years ago that if I wanted to live in the kind of style to which I’d like to become accustomed, I had no choice but to embrace coupons.
And that notion always seemed like a giant, inconvenient, badly dressed bummer.
Until Groupon came along.
Did you know that these daily deals – offered on everything from fast food to facelifts – can fill you with enormous satisfaction and pride in your own fiscal cunning? You are, after all, getting liposuction for 60% off.
Of course, the fact that I don’t really need liposuction – or that giving it as a gift can set a friendship back ten years – is really beside the point. And since these coupon clubs like Groupon, Living Social and Travelzoo have apps that you can check from your phone – first thing in the morning, on the toilet – there’s really no limit to the amount of money you can save.
Which appears to be the problem.
As someone who has now amassed an impressive collection of pilates classes, psychic readings, bouncy house rentals and beekeeping suits, I’m saving so much money that I’m going broke.
Me: “Look, a customized bobblehead for just $69 – regular $149!”
Anyone With Sense: “I’m taking away your phone.”
Of course, it’s not like I have a problem. I mean, sure, I have taken to keeping a log of my purchases and their expiration dates so that things don’t slip through the cracks.
And I’ve begun to forgo group outings, because all my dinner coupons are for two.
And I do occasionally drive all over town to three different branches of a store because they’ll only accept one coupon per visit.
And there’s that pesky issue of refusing to go to any establishment for which I do not currently possess a voucher.
But I am just someone who appreciates the value of a dollar. Someone with a keen eye for financial conservatism. Someone who understands that a defibrillator at 72% off is the kind of bargain that just doesn’t come along every day.
Now if I can just find someone who’s having a heart attack.
Oh, wait, my partner’s opening the VISA bill. That should do the trick.