January 9: The art of couponing and its appeal

I was eating my Honey Nut Cheerios when I saw a coupon the back of the box for a free sesame seed. I was so happy. I was going to make this recipe for sesame seed bagel buns that called for 5,000 sesame seeds. Last night, I counted out all the sesame seeds and there were 4,999. Hooray, I thought. Jackpot. Now I can make my sesame seed bagel buns and no one will complain that there weren’t enough sesame seeds. (“Needs one more,” I could just picture cousin Ned sayin.’)

So after I finished my Honey Nut Cheerios, I hightailed it down to The Bulk Barn and went to the sesame seed bin. There was a big lineup of folks because sesame seeds are popular in this part of town. Had to wait darn near three hours. The Reverend Malcolm hauled away two Hefty sacks full of sesame seeds and Gol, the man who runs the Bulk Barn, said it would cost him two hundred and seventeen dollars and 83 cents.

Then it was my time at the bin. I selected one baggie and then I pulled out my pair of tweezers and started hunting for the perfect sesame seed. Some were too round. Some were too pointy. Some were too asymmetrical. At last I found the perfect sesame seed, which I placed in my baggie and brought up to Gol.

Gol puts my sesame seed on the scale. “That’ll be one cent,” he says. “Actually, it’s one tenth of a cent but we round up.”

Smiling, I handed him my coupon. Gol puts on his reading glasses and scans it critically.

“This expired yesterday,” he says.

“Durn,” says I. “Can’t you make an exception?”

“What do I look like? A charity? I gots to make money too, you know.”

“I know,” says I, and pull out a thousand dollar bill. “May I have some change?”

Gol grumbles a bit and then he hands me nine hundred dollar bills, four twenties, a ten, a five, four ones, three quarters, two dimes and four pennies.

“Thanks,” I say.

I’m just about to leave when I see the little red tray beside Gol’s cash register. It’s full of pennies. There’s a sign that says: Need a penny? Take a penny.

I take a penny.

“Excuse me,” I say to Gol. “I’m wondering if you can trade all this for a thousand dollar bill.”

“Gladly,” says Gol and the money trades hands.

I’m about to leave when my phone rings. It’s maw, calling to tell me that she used a sesame seed to flavour her Raisin Bran. You’ll need another one to make your bagel buns.

Back I go to the sesame seed bin so I can get me another sesame seed. Back I go to Gol, who’s looking madder than a fart in a perfume bottle.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to buy another sesame seed with a thousand dollar bill,” he says.

“Gots to,” says I. “Ain’t got a coupon.”