Extreme Couponing: A Public Service Announcement

Greetings everyone! It has been far too long, and since I worked a grueling 8-hour shift at the cash registers yesterday, I was reminded of the many ways in which ways people are capable of pissing me off. During my shift yesterday, I fell victim to about three different transactions involving women who refer to themselves as "extreme couponers". In my opinion, this was three too many. This despicable mental disorder has gone out of control, and I feel obligated to share this public service announcement with the world. Only through awareness (and aggressive therapy) can we defeat this terrible disorder.

EXTREME COUPONING. This phenomenon is sweeping the nation and affecting overweight, depressed housewives everywhere who are so dissatisfied with their lives they literally have nothing better to do than repeatedly save 75 cents on a bottle of hand soap. Now, don't get me wrong - I am all for clipping a few coupons out of newspaper ads on a Sunday afternoon and going out for a nice, slightly cheaper shopping trip. However, it is beyond me how this menial task turned into a nationwide hobby.

It all started, as many asinine fads do, with a television show. However, let me explain something to you. The show "Extreme Couponing" is just like "Extreme Hoarders" - it is a documentary TLC produced to showcase a DISORDER. This is not a hot new trend, folks. It doesn't significantly improve one's quality of life, nor does it do anything awesome, like cure cancer. It's a form of ACUTE MENTAL ILLNESS.

My first encounter with an extreme couponer involved a woman who wasted about 20 minutes of my life doing about 35 separate transactions, each involving one bottle of hand soap and a dollar-off coupon. During this waste of life, I was treated to her entire fucking life story about how her sister loves this scent, so she's getting her ten bottles, and her mother loves this scent, and this soap is great for her cuticles, and blah-de-fucking-blah. 

My encounter today was particularly nasty. She comes to my lane with a cartload of Nabisco cookies and 90-calorie Skinny Cow chocolate pellets. Seems like a bit of an oxymoron to me, but what do I know? Seriously though, what kind of normal, mentally-stable person buys a cartload of that shit? After piling her loot on my counter, she heaves a bible-sized stack of coupons into my hands. She literally has a coupon for every single item she purchased, and doesn't hesitate to remind me that it's "double coupon week" and everything should be doubled. 

To make a long story short, her twenty-eight dollar purchase is brought down to a grand total of $3.17. Sounds like the bargain of the century to me, but of course that's not enough.
"Where's my $3 coupon?" she barks at me.
"Excuse me?" I say dubiously. It doesn't sound like I'm speaking to someone who's mentally sound, and that's because I'm not.
"I bought ten Nabisco products. The ad said if I did that your register would take $3 off." She is starting to literally panic. Sweat is beading on her forehead, and her eyes are darting nervously. "My mom and sister and aunt all did it earlier, and they all got $3 coupons."
"Do you have the ad that advertises this?" I ask her.
"NO," she snaps defensively, "but it worked for them earlier. It's supposed to. That's how it works."
"I mean, if the register doesn't print anything, there's really not anything I can do without documentation," I say firmly.
"I'm not leaving here without my $3 taken off," she says frantically. Oh, is that so? What are you going to do, cut my jugular with your massive stack of coupons? Take $3 in blood?
"Count them," she says frantically. "Count the coupons you scanned, and count how many items I have. I must've been off somewhere. There needs to be a $3 coupon."

After wasting about 25 minutes counting and re-counting everything, the only conclusive evidence I found is that she is batshit fucking insane. Surprise!

I have decided that when I become rich and famous, my blog is syndicated, and I am able to have Lewis Black-esque rants on national television about things that piss me off, I will donate some of my riches to build a rehab center for both extreme couponers and the cashiers they have scarred. Just remember, everyone: together, we can defeat this tragic disorder.