The Curmudgeonly Professor

The Curmudgeonly Professor Goes To Costco on April 18 2012

The Curmudgeonly Professor's visits to Costco have been limited this past year due to difficulties in getting there, so today we took advantage of the opportunity and ventured forth.  I had a check for $158 as a rebate from last year's expenditures so I needed to spend it.  Following are my objective and analytical observations and conclusions:

• Never have I encountered so many rude people (customers, not Costco staff, which invariablywere courteous and helpful) since the last time I went to Costco.  The aisles were jammed throughout the store.  People were barging their carts in front of you, often unexpectedly, and blocking the aisles while visiting with others.  
• The average number of children accompanying parents appeared to be somewhere between 5 and 10.  Parents gathered their broods around them to pursue the free food samples, making sure each child from Esmerelda to LaDean got their fair share, thus saving the need to feed them lunch when they got home, and ensuring that you could never in five years get near the free samples yourself.
• Costco had inconsiderately moved the spice section to the end of another aisle, thus necessitating my searching about 5 aisles before I could replace my empty pepper grinder.
• After checking out, I discovered I missed my $158 refund check by $3.36, which I had to cough up.
• As I headed for the exit, I could feel a breeze as I neared the exit door which I properly deduced was being made by some eager beaver trying to beat me to the door just as I was about there. True to form, a young man in a white shirt and tie went around me, barged in front, and got to the checker outer person a tad before I could make it.  Bless you, I said under my breath.  I hope you have a nice day.
• I said "pardon me" at least a half dozen times to people who deliberately cut in front, raced past, or otherwise exhibited a variety of types of rudeness.

On the positive side, we acquired the necessities of life, including 40 more hearing aid batteries, so I can replace my dead hearing aid batteries which seem to die out every other day.  The mandatory Costco rotisserie chicken is still 5 bucks, a fact of life that necessitated my removing my Ronco rotisserie (set it and forget it) to the basement so I don't have to spend 2 hours cleaning the blasted thing up after setting it and forgetting it.  Many big bottles of stuff don't cost that much more than a smaller bottle of the same stuff at the grocery.  The problem is just using it up.  I still like Costco, which is truly a modern shopping paradise.  I just wish a few more customers had minimally acceptable manners.

Getting Into the Spirit of Christmas while Shopping at Kohl's Department Store with my Wife

One of my more popular blog posts was the one titled "Men, Do Not Accompany Your Wife to Kohl's Department Store."  This post was written while saturated with memories of standing around, waiting, trying to avoid walking through acres of crowded racks of you know whats, twiddling my thumbs, and sitting on the benches by the doorway.  Last time I was there, another gentleman sat on the bench opposite by the other door.  All I had to say to him was "You too, huh?"  And he responded, as I knew he would, "I wish I'd stayed home."  Yesterday I was in the ladies' sweater area when an obviously frustrated senior citizen (you can spot senior citizens easily a mile away) was pacing back and forth.  So I said, "You too, huh?"  And he said, as I knew he would, "I wish I'd stayed home."  But then he added, "That woman.  I've even had her paged to come up by the returns counter and she just ignored it."  Ten minutes later I was back at that spot, and there he was, taking minutes off his expected actuarial existence, next to frothing at the mouth.

So men, you know what I mean.  But yesterday was at least a bit different since we were shopping for a Christmas sweater for my wife and my attendance was voluntary and obligatory.  We ultimately found one plus a couple of other things.  I got in line to pay.  My wife cautioned me, over and over, be sure you get all of the discounts, all of the $10 coupons, the discount for the Kohl's credit card, and whatever else there was.  I told the clerk I would be in trouble if I did not split the purchases  so I could get all of  the discounts.  When I got to the car, my wife asked me if I was sure I got all of the discounts.  When we got home, she studied the sales receipts meticulously to make sure I got all of the discounts, noting that the sweater she thought was 50% off was only 30% off.  Ordinarily, she is not happy unless she starts with an item with an initial price tag of $79, and with coupons, discounts, etc., finally whittles it down to $3.98 and then may think she paid too much.  So at least we accomplished our goal and bought her a nice sweater for Christmas, a necklace, and a pair of earrings.  But I will never be her equal at understanding Kohl's discount logic with its plethora of coupons, discounts, and other strategies for getting something next to nothing.

So my general admonition, men, remains: Do not accompany your wife to Kohl's Department Store unless you are in an extremely good mood, prepared to stand around endlessly, and are buying a present for your wife.  Otherwise, stay home and watch Matlock.

 

Men, Do Not Accompany Your Wife to Kohl's Department Store if She Has a $10 Gift Certificate: Second Warning

The Curmudgeonly Professor has warned his blog readers before about the perils of accompanying one's wife to Kohl's Department Store if she has a $10 gift certificate.  Thus, he should have known better than to accompany his own wife there.  Problem is, time mutes one's past experiences and thus makes one forgetful of past shopping expeditions.

Thus, we struck out for Kohl's Department Store on Saturday, worst possible day.  She had a $10 gift certificate which she had offered to two other people and, since she said the certificate was the same as cash, was not about to let the Kohl's empire get off scot-free and not lose their ten bucks.  After we arrived at the store, I walked around the entire store, studied the kitchen appliances and photo frames, and, having consumed about 20 minutes, assumed my wife would be ready to go.  Bad assumption.  So I went to one of the two benches between the two sets of front doors to the store and sat for awhile, observing the mass of humanity and Saturday shoppers.

One couple came out of the first door when the man said, incredulously, "You spent $103?"  "Yes I did," was the wife's sweet response.  Another older lady barked at me when someone else pushed the automatic door opener, "Did YOU do that?"  "No," I meekly replied.  The average number of kids being hauled into Kohl's per family was somewhere between 3 and 5.  After a family of 5 bawling kids set up camp in the bench opposite, I took myself back into the store hoping for a swift resolution to my long wait.

My wait was over.  My wife was in line at the cashier's.  At last!  And this was her explanation: "I bought one top for $9.99, and I wasn't about to give Kohl's their $1.01 that they owed me, so I spent $14 on another top.  Boy, did she show them!  But then her idea of a great shopping trip to Kohl's is to buy items that start out about $50-80, and, after a plethora of discounts and reductions, end up getting them for no more than $5.98.

My question as an economist is, since she spent a $10-same-as-cash gift certificate, did she affect the Gross Domestic Product with her expenditure, since she was merely spending hot air?  So rather than raise the GDP by $23, she stimulated the economy only by $13.  That's about as close to government printing of money as you can get.  But how does Kohl's treat inventory reduction when it is financed by hot air?  Questions to ponder if you have any interest in economics at all.

Exit and Entrance Signs at the Always (underlined) big box store (WalMart)

As you can plainly see, the Always store (Always what?  Those in the know are aware that Always means Always Low Prices)  has two signs over the entrance-exit doors.  Actually, Always could be classified as an incomplete sentence, a word hanging out there in space, which Miss Harkins, my 12th grade English teacher would heartily disapprove (of), to dangle at the end of the sentence rather than write it over. The door on the right says Enter over the door, the door on the left says Exit, but only on the inside.  It is no wonder that people are always entering the Exit door since there is no sign at all on the outside over that door, so how would one know that it is the Exit door?  Target, for instance, paints Exit and Enter in big red letters right on the face of the door so even a college graduate can quickly tell what is what.  Stronger yet are the words "Do Not Enter", an imperial commandment that will keep the customers in shape.  Haven't any of the flock of multibillionaires who sit around Benton AK collecting their annual take off the top of WalMart revenues caught on to this, or are they so rich they don't even care?  Even my sister Judy has opined she will carefully watch which door she enters and exits after this in case she runs into someone as sensitive to this issue as is the Curmudgeonly Professor.  Such is the power of my blog to induce such behavioral modification. Are the Pearly Gates just as confusing as to exit and entrance?  Has anyone been there who can report back and tell us?  And if you enter, take a little questionnaire and review your sinful life and then get unceremoniously kicked out, is there an Exit door clearly marked?  And are there directions about where to go?  As you can tell, this is a slow news day, full of dangling prepositions and indefinite antecedents.  But what the heck, this is my blog and I can do whatever I want to since there is no guarantee anyone will read it anyway.  Maybe someone will write a complaint.

Walmart Chronicles Continued

The Curmudgeonly Professor accompanied his wife to Walmart this afternoon, which turned out to be a huge mistake.  People were, as usual, entering through the exit door and, when we left, barging into the store through the exit door.  If the billionaires in Benton AK would just make one simple change, it would help: Paint exit on the face of the exit doors on both sides, and Enter on the entrance doors on both sides.  I should get a bonus for suggesting this improvement.  I cannot imagine why someone hasn't implemented this obvious change in one of the richest companies in the world.  Apparently they are making enough money so they do not care who enters through the exit door and who exits through the entrance door.

The greeter actually said "welcome to Walmart", which doesn't happen very often among the Walmart greeters we have seen.  The jewelry counter lady was out for an extended lunch break so I couldn't get a watch battery.  Neither did Walmart (known on the outside of the store as Always) have the shaving lotion or the eye drops I needed.  My wife spent 20 minutes looking for me and I spent 20 minutes looking for her.  We both vowed once more that we dould never again go to Walmart at the same time.  I did learn at the checkout counter that various celebrity movie stars have been fooling around and that some have had implants of various kinds.  But that news was expected and did not make up for the sour disposition I was in as I left the store, wondering why I had thought this visit would be any different than any of the previous ones.  Have a nice day, the greeter said as we left the store.  I was in shock to here this, because no greeter has ever spoken to me upon leaving the store. 

The WalMart Chronicles Continued in Late June

The Curmudgeonly Professor accompanied his wife to WalMart again yesterday, but not without some whining and a threat to not attend these festivities due to a trumped up complaint.  Since I get frequent requests (one or two every year or so) to update my viewers on my visits to WalMart and Costco, I am herewith providing an update on my WalMart visit, as follows:

• I was astonished to see people actually exiting through the exit door and entering through the enter door.  We must have had a particularly astute and attentive group of shoppers yesterday.
• The Walmart greeter actually said "Welcome to Walmart", whereupon I congratulated him on being the first person who even cared whether I went to Walmart or not, since most greeters were either absent, not paying attention, or visiting with someone else.  This bit of information is critical to me, since my students gave me a Walmart greeter's apron on my last day of teaching college after 45 years, informing me this apron was obtained by nefarious means since it holds certain magic charms available only to Walmart Associates and not to riffraff like me.  My students thought I would be ideally suited to the job.
• I opted for the deodorant that is supposed to last all day, instead of only part of a day, the idea being that if you want to go odor-free an entire day, you must spend a tad more money to get longer-lasting protection.
• The average number of children accompanying their mommies appeared to be between four and five.  The most annoying was a four or five year old boy waiting at the cash register who trashed all of the stuff in the shelves in the checkout lanes while daddy just looked on in an amused fashion.  The average age of children opting to ride in the cart while mommy pushed appeared to be around six or seven.  Poor little tykes.
• The checker in the next lane suddenly noticed that two propane barbecue cannisters had been left behind by the person who previously had checked out and left the store.  Happy barbecue.
• I walked approximately 230 miles to get from the groceries to the cosmetics area, but on the way I was charmed by an $8 bright orange polo shirt, which I am proudly wearing today, looking like a highway emergency worker in full regalia.  I have at least 100 or more polo shirts, and my wife keeps trying to coerce me to toss out one for every new one I buy.  But the old ones have a nostalgic attraction, and I can't part with them.
• Even though I had a list, I neglected to check it one last time and, therefore, left the environs of this 20 acre megaplex minus the one item my wife asked me to buy.  Way it goes.

So there you have it, an eyewitness account in depth, as the newscasts say every time they offer a 60 second sound bite, of my latest visit to WalMart.  I did not get lost this time, which irritates my wife exceedingly when that happens, although she gets lost every time I do, and WalMart Associates have generously, in the past, offered to summon her over the loud speaker.  I thought about that option, seriously, but seriously decided I would be in even worse graces if I resorted to doing so.  We exited through the Exit door, loaded up our $86 worth of stuff, all of which disappeared into cracks and crevices as soon as we got home, leaving us wondering why we wasted two hours and a marathon walk.  But then trips to WalMart are the American way, since we no longer have to go from shop to shop and store to store in quaint little downtown shopping areas where we know the proprietors and it was fun to shop.  Now we just suffer through a generic and hopeless bland acreage of life's necessities, sending our dollars to Bentonville AK and hoping we got home with all of our stuff.  Until next time.

My Trip to Costco Day Before Yesterday

One of my critics pointed out that I had not reported on my trip to Costco.  Apparently, she thought I was still there.  But then she is my sister and pounces on any errant or questionable material I post on my blog as quickly as it is posted.  She sits there watching the RSS feed just hoping for something to pick on a bit.  At least it runs up the page views a tad.

My visit to Costco was somewhat uneventful except for my wife's trip to the optical department.  The reason we went to Costco in the first place was to pick up her new prescription sunglasses, ordered two weeks ago.  They had been in for a week, but Costco kept calling our St. George phone no. even though we told them to call the SLC number.  Then, surprise, surprise, the dark glasses had clear lenses.  The person ordering the glasses submitted the wrong order.  So now we wait another week or ten days.

So there was nothing else to do but pick up a couple of things.  TP for one, which seems to go up in price by astronomical amounts between each visit to Costco.  Picked up Grisham's Associate, realized already had it when we got home.  Bananas for $1.32.  Cheap.  And headed to the cash register.  Stopped for gourmet lunch at the deli before we left the store, two hot dogs plus drinks for 3 bucks, loaded with sodium nitrate, but absolutely delicious.  Leave the store, go home.  That's it.  You can't leave Costco by the entrance door because people stand guard there to keep you from being tempted to wheel out your goodies without paying for them, something that apparently doesn't happen at WalMart.  I did not wander off and get lost during this trip, so I incurred no spousal chastisement.  End of story.

A Primer on Successful Shopping at WalMart

In the interests of facilitating visits to WalMart, the Curmudgeonly Professor is offering phase I of a comprehensive primer for shopping at WalMart.  Lesson Number 1:  Observe the doors in the above photo.  The door on the left says Enter.  That means that door is the door one would take if one were entering WalMart.  The door on the right, unfortunately, has no directions attached to it, thus leading the WalMart shopper into a state of confusion, not knowing whether to enter or exit this door.  Never fear.  No one ever reads the Enter or Exit signs.  The door on the right has a sign over it which says Exit as you are coming out of the store, but then you are befuddled, coming out of the store, as to what to do about the door on the left, inasmuch, and whereas, the door on the left is now the door on the right when exiting the store and one is unlikely to remember that this door is the one you are supposed to enter.

A brief on-site research analysis showed that few people, indeed, give two hoots in whatever about which door they enter or exit.  Most people I observed enter through the exit door and exit through the entry door.  Although a WalMart "greeter", an oxymoron word, stood menacingly blocking the entry door as we were attempting to exit, thus forcing us to exit through the exit door.

I hope this little primer has clarified for the WalMart shopper the intricate issues associated with entering and exiting the WalMart store.  One wonders, however, if the folks in the executive suites in Bentonville AK have ever had a staff meeting with Power Point slides to discuss the unresolved issues of their Enter and Exit doors, the signs for which might as well be removed.  Then all WalMart shoppers may cheerfully trundle in and out of WalMart with their boatloads of cheap goods for which they have usually stood in line an inordinate amount of time to purchase, after which if they forget their zip codes, they are plain out of luck.  WalMart won't let you out the door with your goodies in any event, so you will leave empty handed.  As I did one day.  And boy was I steamed.  KMart never gave a fig about whether I knew my stupid zip code.  Problem is, I have multiple zip codes.  And besides, is it WalMart's business to know my Zip Code?  I think not.  To be continued.

Men Do Not Accompany Your Wife to WalMart, Costco, or Kohl's Department Store: You Have Been Warned Before

Against my better judgment, the Curmudgeonly Professor accompanied his wife to WalMart and Kohl's Department Store today.  At the moment, it seemed like a potential change of scenery from sitting at this computer and posting flowers by the dozen.  I presume it is something like having a baby:  you forget how miserable it was to have the last one by the time you are about to have another.  But I am not of the female gender so I cannot speak with authority on this subject.  I lost my wife in both stores.  She claims I got lost.  Whatever.  Lost is lost.  My wife was looking for swimsuits at Kohl's for water aerobics.  I wandered back to the back looking for some photo frames, passing through acres and acres of ladies' undergarments, still more than enough to outfit every female in the south Salt Lake Valley and even some from Lehi and Provo with some left over.  One thing about Kohl's, almost everything is always, more or less "on sale."  My wife had a $10 coupon which she forgot and left home, but the clerk gave her the ten bucks off anyways.  I found some photo frames, but the photo frame aisles were clogged with mommies with monster strollers and yowling infants.  But I finally found three frames at 55% off, their normal price most days of the year, and headed for the front.  Unlike most trips to Kohl's, my wife beat me to the car.  She was ecstatic.  She found two swimsuits "normally" priced at 70 bucks with various and sundry markdowns for a total of 20 bucks, plus a new purse for a song.  She is never a happy shopper unless something started out at some exorbitant price and she ends up getting it for about 10% or less of the original price.

So being reunited with my loved one, we forged on to WalMart.  Unfortunately, I forgot my camera.  I had intended to write a primer on how to shop at WalMart, starting with photos of the "Entrance" and "Exit" signs and explaining the function of each.  The greeter lady was blocking the doorway gabbing with someone so we had to barge around to even get into the store.  After tromping approximately 20 miles to round up a bottle of hot salsa to cure my stuffy nose and a few other assorted goodies, I lost my wife.  She never stays in one place.  A couple of store clerks asked how things were going and I explained that my wife was lost and I feared I would never find her again and would have to stay jailed in WalMart for eons of time.  They each suggested we page her over the loudspeaker which I thought a good idea, especially if we could announce that she should not wander off any more.  Finally, we met up at the checkout lines where she transferred her bargains into my checkout lane, including two hand towels for $1.50 each, a purchase she was especially thrilled about.

So, totally exhausted, and wondering why I thought it would ever be a good idea to accompany my wife to Kohl's Department Store and WalMart, we wandered home to recuperate.  We did have a gourmet lunch at Wendy's, consisting of two 99 cent double stack hamburgers, which was 58 cents cheaper than two $1.29 burgers at Carls' Junior.  What does Carls' Junior mean?  Isn't the punctuation all screwed up?  We declined the triple combo maxo jumbo conglomeration offer from the loudspeaker, proceeding to the payup window, and then to the handout window, where in 30 seconds we were munching our 99 cent double stack, gooey with cheese, cholesterol, fat grams, pickles, onions, mustard, and ketchup, and totally delicious.  At least Wendy's understands the concept of fast food.

Now we must be off to the neighborhood barbecue, at which I am designated to be, once again, the official photographer, with instructions once more not to come up with a hundred pictures of peoples' big rear ends.  We skipped the church outdoor social the other night, since we were supposed to bring our own lunch, so to speak, and I am tired of fixing my own lunches, and, thank you, want to eat something someone else fixed.  This is what happens when you have a social planned by men.  Men do not know how to plan socials, or anything else, for that matter.  If you want something planned and have a good social, for pete's sake, have a female gender type take care of it.  But a woman planned the neighborhood barbecue and, happy day, we are having barbecued ribs, which makes a heck of a lot more sense than bringing my own baloney sandwhich.  Sheesh.  Men get bored trying to figure out stuff.  We probably should have more women running the country.  Then men can occupy their favorite recliner chairs, watch Matlock and Leave it to Beaver,  and not have to worry about anything any longer.

The Curmudgeonly Professor will continue his analysis of shopping matters at a later time.  Right now he must go stick his memory card in his camera and go take photos of people's front sides for the neighborhood scrapbook.  Have a nice day.

A Fairly Unspectacular Trip to Costco

Several of my faithful blog readers have felt a vacuum due to a paucity of updates on shopping at Costco.  This lack of information has impeded some people from having adequate knowledge to enable them to conquer the 500 acre stores and still be able to arrive home several hours later.

As proof that I really did go to Costco, here is the evidence.  Now you can see, not clearly, but see nonetheless, the "Entrance" sign on the left door and the "Exit" sign on the right door.  Unlike WalMart, you will get nowhere if you enter the Exit door except the food court and the customer service lines.  Plus, you have to show a membership card when you use the "Entrance" door or you will not be admitted to the company of fellow Costco cult members.

This trip was a hurried one, and my wife wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, so we didn't have time to dilly dally.  I got my glasses screwed back together, and intended to buy another little screw set for $5.95, but, unfortunately, left it on the counter.  I have bought at least ten of these little screw sets, but my wife keeps losing them for some reason or another.  Besides, you have to buy two bottles of glasses cleaner with the screwdriver and cleaning cloth, and I already have about 20 of those around the house.  I got one of those little bottles filled, anyway, while there, and was impressed with the sign at the refill botlte which said "Do not drink this stuff.  It is not good for you."  Or something like that.  Who would imagine one would want to drink glasses cleaner?

I then headed for the Kleenex, five miles back to the back of the store, and noticed that Kleenex continues to go up about a dollar a batch every time we buy it, as does TP.  Apparently trees are more and more pricier.  The free samples were sparse and practically nonexistent, which ticked me off, since getting a free lunch at Costco is one of the main reasons I go there.  That was just not right.

After loading up the cart with stuff like salsa, orange juice, bread, and who knows what other nonessential stuff we threw in there, I headed for the checkout line while my wife went to the car.  The total was $91 which meant I didn't have to sign the receipt swearing on a Bible that I would honorably pay whatever amount was on there.  Apparently you don't have to swear anything under $100 since purchases at less than $100 are so trivial.  Then I headed correctly to the Exit door.  Some times you get a conscientious checker outer at the door who scrutinizes your countenance, counts everything in your cart, then looks suspiciously at you again, and then uses his or her colored felt tip pen to check you out of the store.  Today, no one looked at me, or what was in the cart.  Apparently I looked honest and they didn't care whether I actually got everything I paid for with my $91.  There weren't even any decent books to buy and then we still had to go to the grocery store.  Oh misery.  But at least the economic stimulus is working due to miraculous self-starting and not to Democratic wizardry, so that is a good thing.  Some day I am going to go to Costco and get a new flat screen plasma HDTV.  Just as soon as they release the hidden lost episodes of Matlock so I will have something to watch.

The Curmudgeonly Professor's WalMart Chronicles Continued

Though I have been assured that I would never be allowed to accompany my spousal unit to WalMart again due to unsubstantiated egregious whining and other defects manifested during past visits, I was coerced into going the other day.  Thus, I must report on that experience.

As usual, we entered the entrance door which was crowded by people exiting the store who had no idea whatsoever what the words "entrance" and "exit" mean in big letters right above the door.  A greeter was standing by the door who actually said "Welcome to WalMart," a first as far as I can remember.  We walked about 40 miles to acquire a few items.  My wife kept disappearing and I spent half my time looking for her.  She wanted some corn starch so I went in search.  I asked two male stockers (not stalkers) where the corn starch was and they learnedly said, aisle such and such, half way down.  Morons didn't know what they were talking about, so I asked a cheerful lady, and she escorted me personally to the corn starch, whereupon I retrieved a can so I could report a successful mission to my wife.  I explained to this lady that two men had misguided me to the corn starch and we shared some observations about the superiority of women in these regards to their male counterparts.  Such personal service is a rarity at WalMart, and is worth noting in my journal.

We continued to chuck stuff in our cart, while I was sent on several missions that involved walking the entire length and width of the 200 acre store, thus causing extreme fatigue and exhaustion to set in.  As we checked out, I was busy shoveling the cheap stuff on the conveyor belt and, therefore, could not monitor the prices shown on the digital readout.  My wife, however, notes all prices as she studies the cash register tapes and she ascertained the checker had done us out of 4 bucks because she had no idea what the pineapple cost and overcharged us 2 bucks on peanuts.  As we were leaving the store, we decided to buy the $3.98 lunch at the deli counter which necessitated me walking a mile each way to the self-checkout area, where I explained to the supervisor that I was a moron and could not check myself out, so she said the other checker lady there was also a moron and she (my checker out lady) always had to check out stuff for the other moron lady, so I shouldn't feel bad. 

Thus, after two hours, or so it seemed, and after extreme physical, emotional, and mental wear and tear, we left WalMart by the exit door.  When we got home I discovered I had plastered a huge wad of gum deposited by some moron on the parking lot pavement on the sole of my shoe which took a half hour to remove.  Was it worth going to WalMart?  I have my doubts.  But the economic multiplier effect of a few more pennies' profit going to the Walton family in Bentonville, AK, and to my wife's nephews who work for WalMart in Bentonville, AK, will likely lead to millions of dollars worth of economic stimulus and the construction of another 100 WalMarts.  And the longer the recession lasts, the more profitable WalMart will remain.  As soon as the turnaround happens, watch for WalMart leakage to Target, Kohl's, And the 98 cent specials at McDonald's.  And never agree to go on a special mission to find something for your wife while you are attending a seance at WalMart.

Men, Do Not Accompany Your Wife to Kohl's Department Store if She Has a $10 Coupon

Men around the world, if your wife has a $10 coupon at a department store, do not, I repeat, do not, accompany her to the department store.  You are risking your sanity, your good nature, and your eternal salvation.  The Curmudgeonly Professor made this egregious mistake yesterday.  I was warned that I probably should not come.  But, as any rational thinker would think, I figured 10 minutes and she could stimulate the economy with a $10 coupon and we would be out of there. 

Here is my sad story.  I walked around the perimeter of the store, skipping quickly past the five acres of bras, which appeared more than enough to clothe the entire female population of Salt Lake City twice over, to check out the picture frames.  I noticed at least three other geezers dutifully following their spouses around with a glazed and pained look in their eyes while the spouse was loading up a cart with doodads that she likely didn't even need anyway but that she thought were "cute," the female word of choice to describe everything from shoes (how and why did shoes get to be "cute" for heaven's sake?) to dish towels.  Tiring quickly of this deadly foray into department store hell, I escaped to the geezer bench located between the two sets of doors by the entrance/exit, expecting my dear wife to have completed her $10 purchase within moments and we would be on our way to Rumbi's Hawaiian Grill for lunch.  The Curmudgeonly Professor was sadly mistaken.  He sat there in a stupor while both sets of doors banged countless times.  Out of dozens, maybe even hundreds, of women, plus three old geezers, only one was observed wearing a skirt or dress.  I was reminded of Saturdays on Main Street in Powell WY when all of the farm women came to town all decked out in their Sunday best and with some of them even wearing hats.  Now the decor is jeans, tee-shirts, and grunge.  I did push the button for the automatic door several times to facilitate the passage of women with five or six kids plus one or two in a stroller, and for a lady on a scooter chair, thus making myself useful.

Still no wife.  This situation reminded me of our last trip to WalMart, during which trip to the store I was informed that "I am already regretting bringing you," a complaint totally unjustified due to some minor whining.  But, at WalMart, my wife instantly disappeared while I was searching for a cheap bottle of salsa.  A WalMart Associate, as clerks at WalMart are ceremoniously termed, asked if I had found what I wanted, to which query I replied that I could not find my wife, to which she replied "We do not locate wives."  Well.  Hoity Toity.  I thought about going up to the front and asking them to put this spousal loss on the loud speaker so I could meet her at the front.  I thought about installing a GPS on her cart next time.  She took my cell phone away from me a few months ago because I had only used it a couple of times in the last year or so, so cell phones were not an option.  Eventually she showed up from some unknown destination and we were able to escape the store, pushing our cart past the two greeters who were so busy chatting with one another they had no time to say "Welcome to WalMart" to any of the new customers entering by the exit doors.  In fact, there is probably little point in welcoming anyone to WalMart anyway since the main reason people go there instead of Nordstrom's should be obvious to the densest observer.

But I have digressed.  Eventually, after 40 painful minutes of waiting, my wife emerged.  With three pair of socks.  Which cost her exactly 58 cents over the $10 coupon.  Ordinarily, she would have found a blouse or something that started out at $80, was marked down three times, and had an extra markdown on geezer day, so she would come out with a better bargain.  "I warned you," she definitively stated.  In other words, save your griping, whining, bellyaching, and complaining.  In other words, this egregious wait was all my fault for coming, so I had no recourse.  Except to remind men around the world and myself that, in the future, if your wife has a $10 coupon, do not accompany them to Kohl's Department Store.  Or any other department store.  Stay home and watch Matlock.  Do not even think of asking your wife how she could spend 40 minutes to buy three pair of little white socks.  If you want to stay married, that is.  Unless you want to figure out how to pay the bills this month, which I haven't paid for 40 years and have no idea how to do.

Now I have just been informed that my presence is desired to accompany my spouse to Home Depot to buy some potted petunias.  Heaven only knows how this trip will turn out.  Wish me luck.

The Curmudgeonly Professor Accompanies His Wife to WalMart, via KMart

Yesterday my wife invited me to accompany her to WalMart.  As we left, she did not turn where the street led to WalMart, so I inquired as to this strange route.  She then informed me, for the first time, that we were first going to KMart.  She has been looking for a couple of deck chairs for at least eight years and she thought she finally had found the chairs she had been searching for.  First, I noticed the KMart parking lot was virtually empty.  Second, I noticed the store was virtually empty.  KMart was a huge, virtually empty store.  Fully stocked, floors polished to a high gloss.  One had to walk for miles to run into another KMart customer.  I wondered how the store could possibly stay open.  Time was, KMart was King.  I used to warn my economics classes never, never to go to KMart on Saturday.  Saturday was when working mommies had to face up to tending their little darlings and the cheapest thing to do was to take all four, five, six or more, to WalMart for a couple of hours of entertainment.  Saturday mornings were not safe in WalMart with an infinite number of little darlings (dare we say brats?) running loose.  "Jared, Nephi, I told you little (fill in the blank) not to knock that pile of motor oil cans over," and stuff like that echoed through the store amidst the frequent "Blue Light Specials."  I haven't seen or heard of a Blue Light Special for 20 years.  Now, KMart appears to be going the way of the horse harness industry, limping along, if this one store is any indicator of how other KMart stores are doing.  Maybe the rest of them are thriving, but I doubt it. 

Then our journey continued to WalMart.  The greeter now sits on a chair behind a little lectern thing so they no longer have to stand as they largely ignore people coming and going.  The chair is probably a good thing since the greeters I saw were obviously far older than I am and they can collect their wages for non-greeting in a bit more comfortable state.  At least WalMart doesn't have cash register tape checker-offers that they have at Costco as you go out the door as you wait while they count all your stuff to see that you didn't sneak in an extra goodie on your way out the door, or, on the positive side, that you had everything you paid for.  So, at WalMart, you don't have to stand around hoping you aren't a criminal after this meticulous search.  The counting of stuff bought appears to be in direct proportion to the length of the checkout line at Costco, so some times you get a quick mark of the felt pen certifying that you are clean and you can leave with just a quick eyeball glance to see if you have anything at all in your cart or if they will call store security.

After walking thirty miles, at least, we gathered up everything on our list, waited 20 minutes in line for one of three checkers, a chronic issue we have with WalMart, divested ourselves of our last $100 of social security and federal wasteful stimulus spending that should have gone to a tax cut instead, wheel past the non-greeter, and head home.  All in all, an eventful and inspiring trip.  The only good thing I can say is that I am more physically fit after marathon walks through two mega stores.

Here is where my blog readers can help me:  I earlier heard from my professional photographer neighbor in St. George that WalMart Fuji processing was better than Costco processing.  I heard at WalMart that Sam's Club photo processing was better than WalMart's processing.  Since all of the net cash in both stores ends up in the pockets of rich Arkansas multi-billionaires anyway, I did not detect that this information was disloyal to the late Sam and his now very rich heirs in any way.  Besides, I was told, Sam's Club uses a dry processing, not wet, and you can get quicker service.  Problem is, I don't have an active Sam's Club membership.  I have read research reports showing that those who shop at Costco are on a higher social scale than Sam's Club frequenters, so I have been reluctant to lower my already-bottom-end social status.  My question is:  if anyone has experience with Sam's Club photo processing, please write me about it.  Thank you very much.  And enjoy your next trip to KMart, WalMart, Sam's Club, or Costco before you run out of toilet paper and Kleenex.  Spend your stimulus checks quickly so you can run out of money again quickly and, like the banks, go ask for more stimulus money before you run out of stuff again.  The Curmudgeonly Professor is a professional economist with a Ph.D., for heaven's sake, so he is an expert on all of this stuff.  Have a nice day.

The Curmudgeonly Professor Accompanies His Wife to Kohl's Department Store

Being bored with writing things on my blog to inspire or irritate people, as the case may be, my wife asked if I wished to accompany her to Kohl's Department Store yesterday since they were having the senior extra 15% off day plus the regular sale stuff, of which much of it is always on sale anyways, as we say here in Utah.  Big mistake.  I went down to the artsy-craftsy store to look at picture frames first.  I have a strong aversion to artsy-craftsy stores.  Such stores have acres of little clipsy doodads and miscellaneous trivia which I presume ends up either in the attic or in a garage sale.  Then I went to Kohl's.  I was able to peruse the entire store in less than five minutes.  They had the same polo shirts we bought on sale a year ago still on sale so apparently their designers and buyers were devoid of imagination.  I saw a man in the back of the store who looked lost so I asked him if his wife turned him loose.  His reply was "I'm trying to find her before she spends all of the rest of my money."  I wanted to tell him they were supposed to be stimulating the economy.  I then retired to the geezer bench at the front of the store where geezers repose while waiting for their dear spouses to examine every price tag and article in the store.  A woman came and sat down on the bench opposite, heaving a big sigh.  "That bad, huh?" I questioned.  "I just ain't what I used to be," she said.  She continued, "I used to be able to go all day and now I can hardly walk to the store."  A statement that could likely be repeated by 80% of St. George's senior citizens.

After suffering through Kohl's, I persuaded my wife to drop me off at Costco for a few minutes.  Whereupon I quickly bought two paperback books, one of which as it turned out my wife had already read, when I thought I was doing her a good turn even after making me suffer at Kohl's.  Unfortunately the chicken rotisserie enterprise and the food court are shut down for a few weeks.  Thus, I could not buy a $5 chicken which we can usually stretch out for at least 10 meals.  When I got to the checkout counter, the lady there instructed me, "Go back.  This is a $100 store."  So I departed, assuring the checkout lady at the door that I indeed had a receipt for the two books I was carrying.  On our way home, we stopped at the Mongolian barbecue for takeout.  The Vietnamese girl at the cash register questioned me thoroughly as to why my wife was still in the car, why she was driving, whether I was a snowbird, and took forever to tell me the following story.  "I was trying to lose weight," she said, "So I bought some Slim Fast."  "I told my friend," she continued, "so my friend bought some Slim Fast and gained 20 pounds in two weeks.  She thought she could eat anything she wanted and that Slim Fast would make her slim.  She was really mad."  Meanwhile, I escaped with two fortune cookies and the Mongolian barbecue.

All of this would have made excellent fodder in the second grade for our weekly reports on "what I did over Saturday and Sunday."  It might have even helped me avoid being kicked out of the second grade and hauled upstairs to the third grade six weeks into the fall schedule.  I will have to think twice before I go to Kohl's again.  They have five acres of women's undergarments that you have to walk through with your eyes straight ahead before you can get to the back of the store.  And as far as I could see they have the same men's shirts and other things that were there last year.

The Curmudgeonly Professor Continues the Costco Chronicles

We had our carpets cleaned yesterday, so we needed to kill some time while they were drying.  Turns out our carpet cleaner's parents grew up in Lovell WY, a small town near Powell WY where I grew up.  I asked him if he had ever looked at the Lovell high school annual scans on the Lovell Chronicle web site.  Since he hadn't, I found freshman class photos of his mom and dad in the 1946 Lovell annual and printed them out.  Since I was a contemporary, I knew many of the kids in the Lovell annual.  Our carpet cleaner told us he had a college degree, and sufficient credits for three other college degrees, but when he told me how much he made annually cleaning carpets, I realized why he was doing it.  He told us his thirteen year old daughter organized a business making hair bows and that she saved $2800 last summer.  He said his nine year old son went around the neighborhood asking people if they had any chores they wanted him to do for five bucks, and had plenty of takers.  He started this activity after trying to collect five bucks apiece for the phone books he was hired to deliver and running into some resistance.

But I digress.  With two or three hours to kill, we needed to find the ideal place to kill it.  And then I had a great idea:  Costco!  My wife objected, but I told her I would buy John Grisham's new novel just out for her, so we went.  And boy oh boy did we hit the jackpot. Two days before the Super Bowl and Costco was like a carnival in full swing. They had enough outstanding food samples for a complete food buffet with everything you could think of:  chicken wings, dozens of dips, salmon, crackers and cheese, drinks, desserts, and anything else you could imagine.  We neither one needed any dinner last night.  We saw the usual number of FLDS people from Colorado City and Hilldale, ladies and girls in their long braids, long dresses, and heavy black shoes.  We saw one man with an FLDS woman, a rare event since mostly the women travel together in vans buying huge quantities and pushing the big orange hand trucks you see at the front of the above photo.  It took us an hour and a half to buy a rotisserie chicken for five bucks, a bottle of peach-mango salsa, and Grisham's new book, which is supposed to be as good as The Firm.  I did lose track of my wife once, but it was only temporary so I was not reprimanded.  I tried to buy a new set of colorful acrylic glasses for twenty bucks, but was admonished that we didn't need them.  Of course not.  You never need 10% of the stuff you buy at Costco, but the impulse items escalate your quality of life, increase your daily enjoyment, and run up your American Express bill.  But at least you are stimulating the economy while Congress dithers.  No question about it, spending money at Costco has a direct economic effect on unemployment, consumer confidence, consumer debt, the GDP, sales taxes, federal taxes, and the price elasticity of demand. So I was proud to have done my bit.

I wouldn't keep adding to my Costco stories, except a number of readers have reassured me how valuable this information is in terms of their own Costco experiences, and so I am happy to oblige.  Besides, I need to kill some time before the three basketball games in a row I want to see start at 1:00 p.m.  Have a nice day.  I should get a huge discount from Costco for providing all of this free advertising.