Columnists
My favourite store
I’m just as much a fan as the next person of your bookstores, bakeries, art galleries and craft stores. I’m also a big fan of the small town department store, Stedman’s; and I’m sorry to see it close up shop in Picton.
But the store of which I’m the biggest fan probably separates me a bit from the next person. That’s because my absolute favourite store is the County Farm Centre.
I was in there earlier today, as a matter of fact. Just dropped in briefly to check out the action, and picked up three pairs of underwear ($6), a kilo of frozen diced onions ($2.99) and a kilo of frozen sliced mushrooms ($4.99). Thought about, but didn’t get, a nice purple T-shirt to add to my collection of four for – $10 shirts. I was pleased by my abstemiousness. So, I think, was my friend behind the counter: “Is that all you’re getting today, sir?” he asked querulously.
There are two things I like about the store. The first is bargains. I think I’ve already made the case. But just to bolster it, during my previous visit, I got a fanatastic pair of blue jeans for $7.77. Now I admit that in order to find them, I had to wade through a pile of jeans on a table, at least two dozen pairs of which were sized in the range of a 52-inch waste and 32-inch leg; which suggests that a platoon of patrons from the Tim Hortons customer training school was expected shortly. But that’s just part of the fun—the thrill of the chase.
Of course, the other thrill is to have someone notice them. That is often made possible by comments to the effect that I have spilled ketchup or relish on them; to which I am able to reply, quite nonchalantly, “oh these—don’t worry about them—got ‘em at the County Farm Centre; as a matter of fact, I only paid $7.77 for them.”
One day, when I am old and famous and have my own television show, I dream of the credits rolling and some announcer stating “… Mr. Simmonds’s fashions by County Farm Centre.” Just to show them that they can take their Giorgio Flavori and their Perry Vittoli designer duds; catch me spending the difference on County produce.
The second thing I like is variety. I can go in for, say, some frozen bagels, and suddenly realize I need some winter socks, or some chain link fencing, or an axe handle. At least, I may not need them in the technical sense, but they are in the store on display, they are a good price, and I have decided to come to the store, which caters to me. So I must be a farmer! Or at least, I can pretend I’m one by buying 30 feet of chain link fencing, which will certainly come in handy when I do go rural. (I assure County farmers that this is just wishful thinking on my part and I pose no real threat to them.)
Or, to be more practical still, let’s say I’m looking in the freezer case for unlabelled Haagen Dasz ice cream bars, and I happen to notice the pocket LED flashlights on sale for $3.99, regularly $9.99. What does any responsible adult do in such circumstances? Of course! He plans for emergencies and buys six of them; so that when he comes home, he is effusive about the great protective saving he has made for his family; and might barely even mention —if at all—the Haagen Dasz ice cream bars, and just slip them into the freezer so as not to detract from his moment of glory.
I have yet to work up the courage to make a really large purchase on my own initiative, because the stakes are somewhat higher; although I have been sorely tempted by off-season barbecues and patio furniture. But, as the life philosophers say, it’s probably best to adopt the life approach of going for the small victories—the well-hit single, rather than the swing-or-miss home run. And my small disappointments— such as buying a shirt on an extralarge sized hanger only to discover I have brought home a boy’s medium—only temper my resolve to be a flintier surveyor of the bargains that await me.
I’m sure other people get the same sort of kick from garage sales and surprise sales at shopping malls. But give me the County Farm Centre any time. I’m headed back soon to check those insulated winter overalls. And maybe I should get my wife one of those ball caps with a picture of a tractor on it: it’s on special, so how could she object?
David Simmonds’s writing is also available at www.grubstreet.ca.
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