So I woke up on Saturday and got myself going a bit faster than usual. I had to get out and buy myself a long-sleeve black dress shirt for a chorus gig I was scheduled to participate in later that night. If I didn’t hustle my ass, I’d be the only one there without one.
Now, of course, this begs one to ask, “You didn’t have a black dress shirt already?” Well, no. I didn’t. I just never thought I would need one– until now.
So I zipped out to the new Target store that opened a few months ago, less than 10 minutes away from me. I didn’t need high fashion. I just needed something now.
Luckily they had one in my size. I grabbed it, along with a few other things, and headed to the checkout.
Naturally, when I got to the register, the checkout girl (who didn’t remind me at all of SNL’s Target Lady) couldn’t find a price tag on my shirt. So she looked inside the shirt at its manufacturing tag and keyed in the code.
It rang up for $4.95.
FIVE BUCKS.
I didn’t say a word. She kept on ringing.
Now, when I picked up the shirt, I clearly saw the sign on the display that showed the shirts were being sold for $24.99. Is it wrong of me to not say anything? No… she could have easily done a price check and had a manager confirm it. But she just kept on ringing… and I just kept my mouth shut, paid, and left.
Score one for me!
So I get home and park the car across from my apartment building. I get out, and catch sight of something on the ground, just behind my car.
A folded-up $10 dollar bill.
There was nobody around. And there were no cars behind mine. So I scooped up the bill, checked it for authenticity (you never can be too sure), and slipped it in my pocket.
Score TWO for me.
So let’s recap here:
I bought a shirt and paid only $5 for it, then came home and found a $10 bill.
I got PAID to go shopping on Saturday.
Life is pretty damn good!
