~ The Hundred Dollar Store ~

My father was Scottish-Italian. He loved to tell people that meant we were cheap lovers. He thought that never got old. I told him it was never young. I used to hate it when he told people that…and he would tell anyone who would listen. Lord he used to embarrass me with that line.

And now I use it regularly. Especially when my kids are with me.

The Scottish blood in me rages when it comes to money. I’ll say it proudly …I’m cheap. Cheapity Cheap Cheap Cheap. Cheapers. You bet I love a bargain. I’m so cheap I could squeeze the hide out of a Buffalo Nickel. And I’m shameless about it. I once haggled with a pan-handler. True story. But damn if I didn’t save 50 cents.

I don’t know why I brought that up. It’s rather embarrassing. Forget I said it.

So you’d think I could spot a bogus deal a mile away. Nuh huh. Sadly, there is one store thats hooked me firmly on its line. The Dollar Store.

My Captain calls it The Hundred Dollar Store. I rarely get out of there for less than a hundred bucks. I really can’t say if the allure of it is that they have knock offs of everything (including pregnancy tests!) or if it is just the concept of “It’s only a buck!”.   Doesn’t matter if I need or even want it, “It’s only a buck!”.  I’ll take ten, please.

Today I went in with a list of five things. FIVE THINGS. So I should have left $5.00 lighter in the wallet, and THATS IT.

1) Dental Floss
2) Hair Brush
3) Head Bands
4) Sandwich Baggies
5) Caffeine Shot

My bill was around $46.00. And to add insult to injury, I was charged 10 cents for two bags because we have a new bag tax and I never remember to bring one of the 15 canvas tote bags I have in my car (which, by the way, I bought at The Dollar Store).

I have no idea what I bought.

WHY?! Why does this store sucker me in like this every stinkin time? They don’t play the mesmerizing, hypnotic music. It sure as heck isn’t the decor. You KNOW its not the smell. And, while entertaining, it REALLY isn’t the ilk of the patrons.

Oh good lord! That’s me! I’m one of their patrons. I’m in that ilk!  And I am not even sure I know what an ilk is, despite the fact that I am throwing the word around like a…like a….like something that is thrown around a lot.  (Metaphors are hard sometimes.)

I need to sit down.

Please, friends, if you ever see me walking around in spandex and mismatched socks and I’m anywhere near a Dollar Store, put me out of my misery. Make it quick and painless, I beg you.