Lorraine M．Gregoire
“Give me a few points for self control！”I snapped at my cranky husband．1 wanted to stop at a sporting goods store“Going out of Busi—ness”sale we passed in the mall．“There’S nothing we need”．his usual grumpy male comment．“It’S all overpriced junk．If they had anything good they wouldn’t be going out of business．”
“But，it’S sporting goods，”1 wheedled．“Could be some good deals for the grandkids．And，you like boats and fishing stuff．I’ve put up with that photo of your dream—canoe’stuck on the bathroom mirror for years now．Maybe you’d enjoy just looking around？”
“Are you crazy？”His eyes got funny and he said something like． “The boat 1 want is the Supremo Numero—Uno blah—blah．Soon as I finish saving up 6，000 bucks for that baby I’m going to order right from the manufacturer．Custom．In silver．Yesiree．This loser store wouldn’t。carry something like THAT．And I！m sure not going near those sucker crowds．”
“You’re so darn negative and boring！”I retorted．“I happen to like crowds．They make me feel like I’m part of something．I promise 1 won’t buy anything but I’m going to look around for fun anyways．You go for coffee and I’11 meet you back here in half an hour．” “Don’t make promises you can’t keep，old girl．”He chuckled inthat self—satisfied“I’11 believe it when I see it”way that always getsme riled．“I know you’re going to come out of there with useless junk．You always do．” His words made me mad．How dare he accuse me of being frivo—lous！I prided myself on being a wise shopper．I had a dam good nosefor bargains and stretched our old age pensions like nobody’S business．Now I had a mad on，that’S for sure．“Boy，I’11 show him．”I promisedmyself 1 would not buy a dam thing，no matter what．Ha！1 wouldn’tgive Mr．Know—It—All smarty—pants reason to gloat．
I squared my chin and marched into the crowded store．Aisles andaisles of hockey equipment，basketballs，golf clubs，exercise equipment，fishing gear，boy toys galore were strung with huge blaring signs．Closingout sale—up to 80％off．No refunds． Up and down the aisles I strolled，ducked and dodged，humming tomyself and enjoying the frenetic energy and excitement of a sale．All of a sudden，there，at the back of the store，in gleaming silver，full of lifejackets，paddles and fishing stuff，sat the exact canoe of myhusband’S picture．I gasped and blinked three times．Yup．It was stillthere．The Supremo Numero—Uno blah，blah．My heart beat wildly．I el—bowed my way through the crowds，scrambled over junk in the aisles anddarned near fell into the canoe looking for the price tag． There it was—a little tattered，with the manufacturer’S suggested re—tail price at6．750 plus tax crossed out and a handwritten to clear750 as is．No retums．Must be a mistake．6000 off？Salesman．I hadto talk to a salesmanted a young fell。w wim a“Hi．I，m Mew，，tag trying t。hide out from the mob of bargain hunters．I clutched his sleeve．“Mathew．Tell me about this E1 Supremo canoe．What’S wrong with it？Why is it only7507”
“Oh．There’S nothing wrong with it．It’S brand new．We’re closing the store is a11．It’S on clearance like everything else．I think that includes lifejackets，paddles and a bunch of fishing gear，too．I’11 go check．”
A few minutes later he catile back and said．“I’m sorry ma’am．Someone made a mistake on the sale tag．It’S supposed to be4．750 for the whole package．I just talked to my Dad who is running the close—out．He said it was worth more than8。000 regular price SO it’S still a real good deal．”
