One. More. Savings. Card.
I was at Toys R Us (or "Toys Sure R Expensive" as Dave Barry used to call it) yesterday and the dour-faced employee (working at Toys R Us isn't as fun and festive as one might think, apparently) offered me a savings card. I hesitated. Then she said, "Oh, it's not a credit card. It's free." I didn't hesitate because I thought it was a credit card, but because I am simply out of space for these bleeping cards.
"No thanks," I replied finally. I've started turning them down more and more, because the odds of me using them seem to be getting slimmer and slimmer. Not to mention the time it takes to fish it out of my wallet when there are a dozen people behind me in line. ("Did you say the card is blue? You sure? Will my library card do the trick?") Spend a bajillion dollars in a particular store to earn points and eventually, probably sometime after I retire, I'll get a free cookie or something. The whole experience is akin to clipping coupons. If the paper towel company can afford to sell me a roll for 20 cents less, why not just sell it to me for 20 cents less? Why must we play this ridiculous game?
Please don't tell Auntie Anne about this little outburst. I do still want that pretzel.