The San Francisco treat

It's a sad weekend for us money saving freaks. Tomorrow is a day of sorrow. Mourning. Grief.

Evidently, the celebration of our nation's Presidents directly affects the ability of the marketing gurus to offer coupons. Yes, you read correctly.There will be no coupons tomorrow. The sun may as well forget to rise.

This momentus occurence does not come often, but when it does, it's a disgrace. No paper cuts, no digging through my neighbors recycling bins at 2am Monday morning; shaking coffee grounds and egg shells off of an entire weeks worth of discarded papers.

To add insult to injury, there will be no mail on Monday. My daily trip to the mailbox is like a little bit of Christmas every day. What rebates came? What FREE coupon from a manufacturer will I find? The short answer is, I will have to wait until Tuesday to answer these burning questions.

So while I would love to help you match tomorrow's coupons with next weeks sales, I cannot. Would you be okay with your brain surgeon working without his glasses and mask? I think not! Professionals need TOOLS to aid them in their jobs. I have no tools, I cannot work under such conditions. I may contact my congressman regarding this travesty of justice!

What I can do, is offer you a tale of a woman, her coupons, and three drug dealers. While it won't help you save money, it will make you laugh. And your laughter is what I desire second only to saving you money.

In early 2005, seven months pregnant with my son, I went to the mall. When I came out an hour later, my car was not where I left it. Figuring it was pregnancy induced memory loss, I surmised that I must have parked somewhere else. Three tearful phone calls to my husband and an hour and a half later, It occured to me that my car had been STOLEN! When I called my husband to tell him of my discovery- he told me I was crazy. It was the middle of February, on a Monday afternoon. I was at the most affluent mall in the county. I must have parked outside of Dillards, not Neiman Marcus. Astute observations. He's full of them.

"Listen, fathead! If you do not want me to go into labor, and deliver your son in the parking lot, you will come over here RIGHT NOW!" I sweetly said. Fathead himself arrived 15 minutes later, to find me sitting on the sidewalk outside of Dillards (Where my car WASN'T parked.)

We proceeded to drive up and down every single aisle of the mall parking lot, him looking for my car, and I pressing the panic button on my key fob every twenty feet. Guess what we found??

NOT MY CAR! It was gone. Vanished. My smugness at the fact that I was right, and fathead was wrong, was short lived. It dawned on me that MY CAR WAS GONE! My 3 month old, vacuumed daily- no food or drinks allowed car was GONE.

By now it had been over three hours since I arrived at the most affluent mall in the county. I had images of my car already being stripped, and sold for parts. Then the REAL horror struck. I was certain I was going to faint. This could not be! "MY COUPONS!!!!" I screamed into the evening sky. "Your COUPONS?!?!?" Mr. Fathead asked incredulously. "What about all the stuff from the baby shower that was in the trunk?"

"You took it out last night and put it in the garage." I reminded him.

No. He. Didn't.

My baby shower had been the day before, my trunk loaded to the max with blankies, bibs, diaper bags covered with ducks wearing pants, and diapers. Lots and lots of diapers. Seems Mr. 'I was tired and The Sopranos was starting in ten minutes' neglected his ONE and only baby shower duty- emptying the trunk.

I decided at that very moment that the first phone call I was going to make;after calling the police, was going to be to a divorce attorney.

We flagged down mall security who called the county Sherriff. Once he arrived, I told him that I had parked 'RIGHT HERE.'

"Ma'am, are you sure you didn't just forget where you parked?" He had the NERVE to ask me. He must have seen my husband flinch and cower, because he followed that immediately up with "Ok, what kind of car is it?"

Fast forward TWELVE days later. My phone rang. "Mrs. Fathead, this is officer SomeNerve. We found your car. Can you come down to the lot to identify it, please?" IDENTIFY IT? Was it dead? Were my coupons ok?

We drove to the impound lot, and there it was. My poor, sweet, innocent car. She looked worn out, like she had been abused. I cringed when I realized how dirty she was. My husband said "Yes, that's it, can we look inside?" In a cruel twist of fate, the answer was no. They had to dust her for fingerprints, take pictures, and process all the paperwork. We said our goodbyes and as we drove away, the tears began to fall.

Two days later, I got the call. We could come see her. She was ready to go to rehab. When we arrived at the lot, my husband popped the trunk, and there were ALL of the baby shower gifts. In PERFECT condition. All of my CD's were still in the visor holder, even a dollar in spare change was in the coin holder. The inside of the car was a mess. It was littered with fast food bags, cigarette wrappers, and covered in black powder from fingerprint dusting. And my coupons? They were THE only thing missing. Even my cell phone charger and a pair of shoes I was going to return were present. "'They STOLE MY COUPONS!!!" I screamed. "Ma'am?" The officer on duty inquired.

"My coupons! $64 in CVS EXTRA CARE BUCKS!!, TWO coupons for FREE diapers, receipts for refunds, my LIFE'S WORK- RUINED!" I wailed.

The guy just looked at my husband, and gave him a knowing nod. Officer Somenerve came over and explained what happened. As it turns out, my car was stolen by drug lords. They stole my car for the SOLE purpose of running drugs. In the twelve days they had my car, they put a little under NINE THOUSAND miles on it. Accoring to the authorities, this is not uncommon. Was it common for them to leave all of the personal belongings in the car? I was compelled to ask.

" No, Ma'am. They usually take anything that isn't bolted down. They must have been nice guys." The irony of that statement was so ridiculous that I had to laugh out loud. These nice guys saw the baby stuff and left it for the expectant mother. These nice guys knew how much I loved my new Norah Jones CD, and left it for me. But these nice guys are scum of the earth- they STOLE MY COUPONS!!

It took until three days after my son was born for my car to be overhauled. I got it back, almost good as new. With a few thousand more miles than I had planned.

I can just see the conversation now. " Hey! Did you drop that shipment off on 4th street?" The kingpin would ask.

"Yes, I got four thousand dollars- AND thirty five cents off Rice-A-Roni!"

Jerks.

Until we meet again,

Cici

Cici@MyCoupons.com